


(a supernova grew up) to be stardust

by alyciaclebnam



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/F, follows canon events throughout pp2 and pp3 including some deleted scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-07-27 15:00:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16221509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyciaclebnam/pseuds/alyciaclebnam
Summary: Five times Emily and Aubrey meet through the Bellas, only to drift apart.





	1. one (her and her very first heartbeat)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zero points for creativity - this is basically just a retelling of the events at the Lodge at Fallen Leaves, but from emily’s POV and with a healthy sprinkling of junksen. title and chapter headings come from sara bareilles’ cassiopeia

Emily hears a lot about Aubrey Posen through the rest of the Bellas.

Mostly good things, like how she’s an amazing leader who’s hard-working and determined to succeed in every avenue that she decides to pursue. This gushing praise comes from Chloe, of course, who calls Aubrey her sister-from-another-mister-who-I-would-really-love-to-have-a-stern-word-with-because-his-absent-parenting-is-a-real-downer-on-his-daughter’s-mental-health.

Emily backs away slowly from that conversation. She thinks its sweet how much Chloe obviously cares about Aubrey, but Chloe is a serial oversharer and she doesn’t want to cross any boundaries by snooping into Aubrey’s personal life.

Stacie says Aubrey’s ruthlessness is kinda hot and that the hunter would totally bang one out with her. Emily regrets asking what she means by that.

Beca calls Aubrey _Herr Diktator_ and receives a blow to the back of the head from Chloe, who overhears the comment as she’s passing by. Beca doesn’t retract her statement but she begrudgingly tacks on that she loves Aubrey like a step-sister she can’t legally get rid of.

Fat Amy accidentally (or maybe on purpose?) calls her Audrey and then looks mournfully into the distance as she murmurs, “Vertical running… my personal Vietnam. Feels like it happened forever ago.”

Emily isn’t sure what to think of Aubrey after her casual sleuthing. She’s always been a little intimidated by powerful women – not because they _scare_ her, but because social interaction isn’t her forte. She’s prone to making a fool of herself in front of people she admires, and Emily admires Aubrey a lot.

In fact, she holds Aubrey in the same regard as Beca and Chloe. All three women are _legendary_ according to the “Bellas Beyond Barden” discussion board that her mom frequents.

Emily will admit that Chloe and Beca are still a bit of an enigma, even after being part of the Bellas for a few weeks now. But she likes them, and she thinks they like her.

Well. Sometimes, anyway.

Chloe moves between doting on Emily because she’s the youngest Bella and Chloe is her aca-captain-slash-aca-mom… and hating Emily’s guts because she ruined their shot at the creepy underground riff-off. Emily doesn’t really know which mood Chloe will be in at any given time after that disastrous event. She avoids asking Chloe when they’re going to start singing in rehearsal – doesn’t want to risk stepping on her toes – and directs the question towards Beca, her co-captain, instead.

Except Beca isn’t much help on that front either.

Beca is elusive. The other girls say that she flits in and out at all hours and the only food she keeps in the house is a constant supply of instant mac and cheese. She never stays long enough to talk after rehearsals, and dances awkwardly around an answer whenever Emily asks whether they’re going to start singing soon.

Emily likes practising Chloe’s choreography, she really does. Sure, she thinks the song choices for their convention centre performance were more disturbing than sexy – she would _not_ be gangster enough to sing them on her own – and Stacie definitely had too much influence in that weirdly provocative routine, but the baton-twirling stuff was kinda fun.

It’s just that… well, her mom said her time with the Bellas would be “the best days of her life.”

She didn’t think the best days of her life would involve so much cardio or having to learn a bunch of circus tricks.

It feels amazing to finally be part of the group that her mom has been raving about for as long Emily can remember. But she didn’t join the Bellas just because of her mom’s stories; she joined them to _sing_ and they haven’t really gotten around to doing that. Sure, they’ve had the riff-off and the catastrophic convention centre performance – she’s pretty sure Cynthia Rose is still traumatised after being lit on fire – but they haven’t just… sang anything for _fun_.

Emily acknowledges that the Bellas are on a tight leash with their public performances after Muffgate. But honestly, she’s not feeling the sense of sisterhood that her mom always talks about. She likes the girls, of course, but they also seem to have a lot of other things going on in their lives outside the Bellas – especially Beca – and Emily doesn’t really know where she fits into everything. They keep calling her _Legacy_ and it's flattering at first, but the weight of the title starts to grow heavy on her shoulders.

Emily doesn’t want to be a legacy; she just wants to be a _Bella_. But she doesn’t know how to make that happen.

She hopes that Chloe’s proposed “retreat” will help her figure things out.

***

Emily meets Aubrey for the first time at the Lodge at Fallen Leaves.

She spends the whole trip to the Lodge jiggling her legs. Flo, her seatmate on the bus, mutters under her breath in Spanish every so often. Emily’s ashamed to admit that Beca and Fat Amy’s stories about Aubrey have gotten to her, despite Chloe’s attempts to sing Aubrey’s praises, but Flo thankfully doesn’t tell her off.

She’s impressed by the place when they finally arrive. There’s a beautiful high-ceilinged brick lodge situated right on the lakefront, surrounded by well-maintained lawns and towering trees. Emily’s admiration for Aubrey starts to grow; she can’t imagine running an establishment like this just a few years out of college, not on her own like Chloe says that Aubrey is.

Emily has seen Aubrey in pictures – there’s a framed photo at the Bella house of the girls on stage at the 2012 ICCA finals, and more than a few photos posted on Chloe’s Facebook – so she recognises her waiting by the side of the Lodge as they tumble off the bus. Soon enough, the other girls also notice her, and then there’s squealing and laughing and a group hug that Emily awkwardly hangs back from.

She doesn’t expect it when Aubrey singles her out with a friendly smile.

“You must be Emily.”

Emily sags in relief at the warm tone – of _course_ Chloe was right about Aubrey, she would never lie – but she relaxes a second too soon; once the introductions are out of the way, Aubrey is screaming for the Bellas to fall in line and Emily startles at the change in pitch.

She’s never seen Lilly show any expression on her face before now. Suffice it to say, she’s absolutely _terrified_ to see Lilly looking mildly alarmed at Aubrey’s orders. Emily scrambles to form a haphazard line with the rest of the Bellas, nervous sweat already starting to bead at her hairline.

She seriously doubts this weekend is going to be as fun as Chloe promised.

***

Emily is too scared to make eye contact with Aubrey for hours after their first meeting. Chloe catches on eventually, keen-eyed as a den mother despite all the Bellas being fully functioning adults that are capable of looking after themselves. She assures Emily that Aubrey’s bark is worse than her bite. Beca overhears this from somewhere behind Chloe and must disagree, because she waits until Emily is looking directly at her and then drags a thumb silently across her throat.

Emily blinks back at her with wide eyes. Beca nods sagely.

They spend the rest of their afternoon building a couple of tents after Aubrey informs them that they’ll be sleeping outside. Emily can practically taste Beca’s bitterness at the lack of access to a power outlet for her laptop and tries to step up.

“I build tents all the time, guys. We can do this,” she proclaims as everyone disperses to examine the pieces of their temporary home. “Twenty minutes, tops,” she estimates, glancing around at the tent pieces and then starting to unravel some of the ropes.

Nobody really acknowledges her – in fact, Fat Amy deliberately turns her head away – but Beca and Cynthia Rose start helping to disentangle the ropes, so she figures they’re okay with her taking the lead. She instructs Jessica and Ashley to lay out the tent fabric and manages to convince Stacie that they shouldn’t repurpose the tent poles into a giant stripper pole.

It’s a little harder to persuade Fat Amy against zipping all the sleeping bags together and using them for herself, but thankfully Beca steps in and shuts her down with a single look. Emily wonders how long it took to gain any amount of control over Fat Amy, and whether Beca is the only one who wields that power.

Aubrey looks faintly surprised when they eventually present two finished tents, almost an hour after she left them to their own devices. Emily fights the urge to bounce proudly on her toes.

Of course, that’s when a tree fells itself and lands directly on one of their lovingly crafted tents, crushing it flat. She swears Aubrey takes pleasure in informing them about their now doubly limited space.

“Don’t go shoulder-to-shoulder,” Aubrey says in an oddly chipper tone. Emily thinks she’s admiring the fallen tree. “Head-to-toe – there’s more room that way.”

The former acapella captain bids them goodnight.

There’s a beat of silence after Aubrey starts making her way back towards the Lodge.

Then the girls scramble madly towards the remaining tent all at once, each trying to claim a spot far away from the entrance. It’s clear that no one wants to be stepped on in the middle of the night by people who need to use the bathroom.

Emily ends up third from the tent entrance, behind Jessica and Ashley. She wonders if that says anything about the Bella hierarchy.

***

When Aubrey wakes them in the morning, Emily feels entirely unrefreshed. Between Fat Amy breathing directly into her ear and Lilly being a surprisingly loud snorer, she didn’t manage to get much sleep.

Aubrey blows a whistle and the piercing noise fills the once-tranquil clearing. She admonishes them as they stumble out of the tent, but Emily is one long blink away from falling back to sleep so none of the words register.

They get five minutes to change out of their pajamas. Emily’s brain is still fuzzy by the time everyone is dressed in shorts and tennis shoes. She plasters on a smile and nods along as Aubrey explains their schedule for the day. When she finally zones in and starts listening properly, she immediately wishes she hadn’t.

“… death-defying team-building trust exercises,” Aubrey finishes.

Chloe expresses her admiration for the idea and Emily glances incredulously between the two. She’s pretty sure Chloe needs to re-evaluate her definition of _fun_.

***

To be fair, Aubrey’s planned activities start out innocently enough.

There’s a low-ropes course a little way into the forest. The girls fumble their way around one another to cross a narrow log bridge, boost each other over tall hurdles, carry one another through the holes of a rope climbing net, and maneuver across a series of tire swings.

Aubrey adds an acapella twist by stopping them after each obstacle and instructing them to come up with an impromptu arrangement. It’s almost like the underground riff-off, Emily thinks, only a thousand times more intense. No one is spared from Aubrey’s scrutiny; she puts specific people on the spot at different points in the arrangement, makes them take the lead or sing their parts a little louder. Emily has never come up with an acapella arrangement before, but she figures that Aubrey is singling people out for a reason, so she follows along dutifully.

They’re all out of their element here – physically and vocally – and it shows. Emily assumed that the girls would be a more cohesive unit after being together for three years. She figured she would have to adjust to an established dynamic, but it turns out that they’re not so good at working together outside of Bellas rehearsals.

Fat Amy tumbles backward off a six-foot-tall log hurdle when they don’t give her enough support. She tells everyone that she’s fine and that she maintains a protective layer for a reason.

She waves away their apologies and adds, “I didn’t expect twigs like you to catch me anyway. And I would’ve had to spend the rest of the afternoon pulling your splinter-like limbs from my arse if I’d used you guys to break my fall. So… yeah. Be grateful, bitches.”

Beca is the next victim. She ends up face-down in the dirt when they tell her to jump between successive tire swings but forget that she’s barely five feet tall and has short limbs. She’s not as forgiving as Amy and spends the rest of the activity sulking on the sidelines.

They don’t start cooperating properly until Lilly gets caught in the rope net after misunderstanding the task, or so Emily presumes. Fat Amy says she’s strung herself up to be the first Asian-Jesus, but Lilly’s whispers aren’t easy to decipher under normal circumstances; it’s no wonder that none of the other girls trusts Amy’s translation.

When they start paying attention to each other and communicating more openly, they begin learning more about one another. They collectively realise that Flo is the second-worst at following instructions (behind Fat Amy, of course) because she has an instinctive go-it-alone attitude and tends to do things her own way. They discover that Cynthia Rose is deathly afraid of heights. Stacie has apparently been pitchy during every performance because she’s been trying to sing as a soprano instead of her natural mezzo.

“We told you that you were a mezzo at initiation,” Aubrey says confusedly. “Have you really been singing in the wrong key for the last three years?”

Stacie smiles wryly. “Three and a half years, apparently.”

“ _Stacie_ ,” Aubrey chides.

“Look, I don’t understand this acapella stuff like you or Chloe or Beca,” Stacie says, sounding mostly indifferent. But then she crosses her arms and admits, “The singing is fun but I’m in this group because I love you guys like family. I don’t even know what a mezzo is.”

Chloe shakes her head and turns to Beca, “How have we not picked that up?”

She blames herself for the oversight, if the guilty expression on her face is anything to go by. Emily wants to rush over to give her a hug, but she doesn’t want to ruin the moment they’re having right now.

“I’m not exactly the loudest voice in the choir,” Stacie says before Beca can respond to Chloe. There’s no self-deprecation in her tone, just statement of fact. “I can’t blame anyone for not noticing.”

This must be the point Aubrey has been trying to make, Emily thinks. By singling people out during their impromptu arrangements, they’re being forced to pay closer attention to one another. They haven’t been listening to one another, not really, and this is the proof.

That realisation is the turning point for the rest of their afternoon. Everyone seems determined to work as a better team – in both the physical activities and vocal arrangements – and they don’t encounter any more incidents. Emily discovers that teamwork doesn’t involve just learning to do things as a group; it involves understanding how to play to everyone’s strengths.

And to understand everyone’s strengths, they have to learn about one another.

Emily finds out that Chloe can’t scream because she had surgery to remove vocal nodules during her first senior year. She finally confirms that Jessica is the blonde and Ashley is the brunette. She also realises that she hasn’t really talked to any of the girls about anything that isn’t Bellas-related.

She hopes that will change by the end of the weekend.

***

Naturally, as soon as they figure out how to function as a team and start actually having fun, Aubrey dials the activities up on the danger-scale.

“You want me to _jump_ off this?” Beca asks in a shrill voice when Aubrey leads them out onto the lake and up a wooden tower.

Emily looks at the inflatable blob floating innocently on the water below them. She adjusts her shorts nervously.

“It’s perfectly safe,” Aubrey informs them. She sounds composed but Emily still has her concerns.

“What if I hit the bag too hard?” Beca asks seriously.

Emily thinks that’s a fair question. Beca is pretty small and they’re up pretty high. She’s not good at physics and she doesn’t know whether those factors will actually work against Beca. But falling from any height sounds like a supremely risky plan in general.

“Then you’ll end up with a few bruises,” Aubrey says, sounding unperturbed.

That answer seems to make Beca more anxious and she follows up with another question, “What if my trajectory is off and I miss the bag completely?”

Emily risks looking directly at Aubrey because that’s actually a good point. She’s never attempted to target her landing after leaping off a ten-foot platform.

“Then you’ll hit the water,” Aubrey says, remaining infuriatingly nonchalant as she glances down at the lake. “A fall from this height won’t kill you.”

“Good to know,” Beca says through gritted teeth.

Emily volunteers to go first because Beca looks like she’s about to initiate Pukegate 2.0 over everyone on the lower level. Aubrey nods approvingly and Emily ducks her head to hide her pleased blush. She wonders if the urge to gain Aubrey’s praise is universal, whether that’s how Aubrey managed to wrangle their particularly eclectic group of Bellas when she was captain.

She goes to line her toes up with the edge of the platform and waves down at Flo who is laying at the far end of the inflatable bag, ready to be thrown upwards when Emily lands.

Falling isn’t so bad, she discovers. The impact is a little disorienting, sure, but she moves past it quickly. Her bravery pays off too – when she crawls to the edge of the bag, ready to be launched into the air herself, she looks up and sees that Beca is next in line.

Beca takes a moment to prepare, probably trying to talk herself into jumping. Emily doesn’t mind the wait but jokingly mimes a pushing motion to the girls waiting behind their valiant little co-captain. They laugh and she swears she sees Aubrey smile.

It’s the last thing Emily thinks about before Beca leaps and she’s being flung off the inflatable bag. She hits the lake surface with a wide grin and ends up accidentally swallowing a lungful of water, but she doesn’t hesitate to swim back to the tower and do it all over again.

After free-falling through the air a few times, the rest of Aubrey’s activities seem harmless. The giant waterslide is fun and the flying fox becomes a competition to see who can hold on the longest before dropping into the water.

Lilly wins. She also somehow has the foresight to bring a pair of goggles for their next activity: an obstacle course submerged in a pool of mud. Emily wonders if she’s been holding onto those goggles all day, and if so, _how_.

They all end up with mud in places that mud should never be, and every breath tastes like dirt, but Emily relishes the time spent bonding with the Bellas and learning more about them.

Aubrey waits with a hose in hand at the end of the obstacle course. She blasts them with cold water as they emerge from the mud pit. She claims she’s just hosing them down but her smug expression says otherwise. Emily splutters when the cold spray is directed at her, but she supposes she’s glad that Aubrey is managing to have some fun too.

***

After everyone is hosed off and they take a few minutes to drip dry, Aubrey directs them under the shade of a few trees to come up with their final acapella arrangement of the day.

Emily loves the whole thing. _This_ is what she expected when she joined the Bellas. They riff off of one another and their harmonies come together almost effortlessly. The arrangement isn’t perfect, but it still sounds great and they have _fun_.

It’s a good note to end the day on, Emily thinks. Except things don’t always work out as planned.

Everyone is tired after all the physical activity, and working through all those arrangements has been taxing on a million other levels. They’re sweaty and out of breath and Emily can feel mud congealing between her toes.

Aubrey comments that their vocal arrangement is two steps away from being almost fine, and that apparently tips Beca over the edge. She questions why they’re doing all this, and Chloe says that they’re rediscovering their sound. Emily nods in agreement – even she can tell that their harmonies are smoother now – but then Beca points out that they’re just singing songs that would never go in their set, and Emily is stunned into silence.

Beca is sarcastic almost all of the time, but Emily has never heard her sound derisive before.

Chloe must sense that Beca isn’t going to back down. She tries to curb the growing tension, but Beca is obstinate. That’s when Aubrey steps in and tries to calmly explain the process. Emily thinks she means well, but her words come off a _little_ patronising and Beca seems to have had enough.

“I’ve got more important things to do!” Beca exclaims.

Chloe looks indignant. “What could be more important than this?”

The rest of the Bellas are quick to disperse at that question and Emily hesitantly follows their lead. She wants to stay and help figure things out, but she wouldn’t even know where to start. She trails behind the rest of the girls to a bench nearby and waits for the storm to blow itself over instead.

None of the Bellas seem fazed by the argument that’s escalating barely ten feet away. She wonders whether the co-captains disagree on a regular basis.

Fat Amy is the only one brave enough – or reckless enough – to get between them, but she ends up making things worse by forcing Beca to come clean about her secret internship at a recording studio.

Emily is totally excited for her; she thinks it’s a great opportunity. But then Chloe asks why Beca would keep something like that from them, and Emily stalls. She’s happy for Beca, obviously, but Chloe is right – why _didn’t_ she just tell them?

Beca says they’re obsessed about being Bellas and she’s the only one thinking about life after graduation. Emily deliberately tunes this part of the argument out because it’s a biting reminder that they’re all leaving her at the end of the school year. She diverts her gaze to a nearby tree instead and reads the sign nailed to it about the use of bear traps within the grounds.

Emily frowns at that information. She feels like Aubrey should have warned them about _bear traps_ before setting them loose in the forest. She glances at Aubrey and wrinkles her nose at the helpless smile on Aubrey’s face as she watches Beca and Chloe fight.

She’ll raise the point at another time then.

Emily misses out on a huge chunk of the argument but finally zones back in as Beca starts to walk away. Emily realises Beca is blindly heading towards the hidden bear trap and tries to warn her about the sign but-

Well. It turns out that Cynthia Rose isn’t the only one afraid of heights.

Beca is suspended in a net well above their heads and the Bellas crane their necks to look up at her, trapped amongst the trees. Chloe takes a moment to gloat at her predicament but then a branch breaks and the net drops a few inches. Beca _screams_.

“We need to get her down. We need a ladder!” Emily says frantically and turns to look questioningly at Aubrey.

Aubrey is surveying the scene from afar with her hands on her hips. Emily is almost infuriated by her poise.

“No, we don’t believe in ladders,” she says calmly. “They suggest a corporate hierarchy that is counterproductive to my team-building program.”

Emily looks at her incredulously. Aubrey just shrugs airily. Fat Amy seems to be incensed by that answer and strides over to confront Aubrey. Emily turns away from the impending quarrel and focuses back on Beca, who is so high up that she can’t hear anything that they’re saying.

She sounds like she’s on the verge of tears as she desperately apologises and tells them she doesn’t mean anything that she said before.

“I love all of you awesome nerds and I love being a Bella,” Beca blurts. Emily can’t help smiling, even as their captain continues to devolve into hysterics. “I’m just _so_ stressed out right now-”

Beca screams when a branch creaks ominously and the net drops a few more inches. Chloe quickly arranges the Bellas into a circle and has them brace their arms against one another to catch Beca should the net fall.

When it does – because of course it does – Fat Amy’s protective layer gets the brunt of the fall for the second time that day.

As Beca lays spread-eagled on the ground, catching her breath, the rest of the Bellas collectively look up into the branches to figure out why the net fell.

They see Lilly hanging upside down from the remains of the thick rope that must have been holding the net amongst the trees, with two small knives in hand. She pockets the weapons while still hanging upside down and says a few words that no one catches.

Emily is glad that Beca is safe, but she doesn’t look forward to sleeping next to Lilly later.

***

The Bellas decide to have a girls’ night in, so to speak. Aubrey helps a few of them set up a campfire so they can roast marshmallows and have a long-awaited talk about what’s going to happen after they graduate.

Emily is only a freshman – she hasn’t thought about graduation yet; hasn’t _needed_ to think that far ahead. Beca and Chloe’s shared captaincy over the Bellas isn’t something that she can replicate, she realises. All the current members are graduating at the end of the year, and Emily will be the only one left.

How is she supposed to lead a new generation of Bellas when she barely feels like one now?

The longer she thinks about it, the more the unease grows. She feels like she can’t breathe with the anxiety filling up all the space in her lungs and constricting around her heart.

Chloe sends her a concerned look. Emily waves her off with a smile that feels more like a grimace. She says that her calves are just cramping after all the physical activities today and excuses herself to stretch her legs.

She wanders far enough from camp that she can no longer hear the girls chattering away. The air is a little colder out here, she thinks absently, rubbing at the goosebumps forming on her arms.

She’s alone with her thoughts for only a few minutes before someone else comes along.

“You’re about ten inches from a bear trap.”

Emily startles at the sudden interruption to her musing. Her upper body twists around slightly and her legs move to follow but two hands grip at her upper arms, urging her not to turn around.

“Easy, rabbit. Walk back a bit first,” the person instructs; they squeeze gently at Emily’s arms, probably trying to reassure her. “Don’t want you getting caught in the net like Beca – we don’t have ladders here, remember?”

Emily has trouble reconciling the soft cadence with the drill-sergeant that’s been screaming at them all day, but she’s sure that Aubrey is the one behind her. She dutifully takes a couple of steps backward before turning around.

Aubrey doesn’t immediately bombard her with concerned questions. Emily is grateful. She’s sure she would have been subject to an inquisition if any of the other Bellas had happened upon her. Chloe is a sweetheart but she’s about as tactful as a brick to the face.

“You’re pretty far away from camp,” Aubrey comments instead. She glances back towards where Emily should be. “If you’d gotten caught in that trap, you probably wouldn’t have been found until morning.”

Emily doesn’t know how to respond to that. Aubrey looks a bit sheepish at her own words.

“I didn’t mean for that to sound like an accusation. Sorry.”

Emily accepts the apology with a nod, and they lapse into silence. The moment stretches on for a while but Emily notices that Aubrey doesn’t even fidget. She wonders if this should feel more awkward than it actually is, two relative strangers standing around saying nothing.

But the anxiety from before has finally begun to wane, here in this shared moment of silence, and Emily’s chest doesn’t feel so tight anymore. Aubrey must notice that something has changed, because that’s when she breaks the quiet.

“You’re scared of me, aren’t you?”

It’s not the first thing Emily expected her to say.

“No!” Emily blurts automatically, even though that’s patently untrue; Aubrey does scare her, but only a little. The panic starts anew, bubbling in the depths of her stomach and bleeding into her next words, “What makes you say that? I mean, why would you think that?”

Aubrey chuckles a little self-deprecatingly and Emily feels so ashamed. She wants to revert into herself so badly that she might turn inside out with the force of her desperation.

“Aside from your voice being so high-pitched that we’d need to define a new vocal type above a soprano?” Aubrey says with a wry smile.

Emily grimaces and trains her gaze squarely on the dirt beneath her own shoes. Aubrey sighs and Emily peeks back up at her. Aubrey meets her gaze and Emily watches her visibly soften. The renewed wave of panic begins to recede.

“Most people are a little scared of me. Even the Bellas, and we’re all friends,” Aubrey says with a casual shrug. It’s a sad truth and Emily wonders if the knowledge weighs heavily on her. “Jessica and Ashley – I can’t remember which, maybe it’s both – they still have trouble making eye contact with me sometimes.”

Aubrey raises an eyebrow pointedly and Emily straightens with a guilty smile.

“It’s a good thing. In my line of work, at least,” Aubrey continues, but the corners of her mouth are quirked upwards. Emily thinks she might be laughing at her. “If the girls weren’t at least a little scared of me…” Aubrey glances towards the campsite, where the rest of the girls are. “I don’t think coming to the Lodge would have had the same effect. You guys are finally re-establishing your harmony, aren’t you?”

Emily can agree that coming here has helped the Bellas with their sound, but she frowns a little at Aubrey’s logic.

“That doesn’t sound like a great foundation for friendship,” Emily comments carefully.

Aubrey laughs. It’s soft, more of a breath than an outright laugh, and Emily can’t help focusing on the sound. She sends Aubrey a quizzical look.

“We _are_ friends, I promise,” Aubrey assures her. “It’s just…”

Emily waits for her to gather her thoughts.

“I only had one year with this batch of Bellas before I graduated, and I spent most of it yelling at them and shooting down all their ideas,” Aubrey admits. “We’re past it now, but my reputation for being…”

“Tough and uncompromising?” Emily suggests with a half-smile.

Aubrey breathes another faint laugh. “That’s putting it lightly.”

“I’m sure you weren’t that bad,” Emily says placatingly.

Aubrey hums. “Beca bore the brunt of my frustrations that year. I know for a fact that she feels differently.”

“Oh, did she actually tell you?” Emily asks confusedly.

She thought Beca was incapable of being forthright with her feelings, opting to let them fester until she exploded. Case in point: her earlier argument with Chloe.

Aubrey actually laughs at that. “Beca didn’t tell me. That girl would sooner shove an ice pick in her eye than publicly admit to having feelings. No, she sent me an email update about the Bellas going to compete at Worlds with the subject line: _No hard feelings about your year as captain but suck on this, Posen_.”

Emily almost snorts because the line is dripping with passive-aggressiveness and it’s so _Beca_. Aubrey thankfully doesn’t take offence at her amusement, just presses her lips together in a thin but genuine looking smile. A boisterous laugh echoes from the direction of the campfire and they both glance towards it.

“Can I ask why you’re out here?” Aubrey enquires lightly, when they turn back to face one another.

Emily hesitates. “It’s stupid,” she hedges, and one of her hands reaches down to toy nervously at the edge of her shorts.

Aubrey doesn’t push but Emily feels her resolve crumbling anyway. She’s never been the type to bottle her feelings up before, so she can’t say she’s surprised.

“I don’t feel like a Bella,” Emily confesses. Her fingers still in anticipation of Aubrey’s response.

Aubrey frowns confusedly, as if she expected any answer but that. “But you _are_ a Bella.”

“They keep…” Emily blows out a hard breath. Her fingers start tapping against her thighs. “My mom’s always told me that being a Bella was the best thing that ever happened to her, aside from me being born.”

Aubrey smiles like she agrees with her mom. Emily smiles back reflexively before continuing on.

“I’ve spent my entire life waiting for the opportunity to be a Bella, but now that I’m here, I still don’t feel…” she trails off. Unable to maintain eye contact with Aubrey, she casts her gaze into the darkness of the forest. “The girls keep calling me _Legacy_ because my mom was a Bella too,” she frowns to herself. “I’m part of the group now but I’m not _one_ of them, you know?”

Aubrey doesn’t say anything for a while after that. Emily thinks she might not know how to reply, so she starts scrambling for a light-hearted comment to lift the mood. Before Emily can make some inane observation about the trees, the former captain surprises her and speaks up.

“The girls let you into the Bellas, didn’t they?” Aubrey asks gently.

Emily falters, because, well, _yes_. She wouldn’t be here otherwise.

“I’m sure Chloe explained that all legacies are entitled to audition for the Bellas, according to our code?” Aubrey questions and Emily nods. “They _had_ to let you audition, but they didn’t _have_ to let you into the group.”

Emily draws her bottom lip between her teeth, contemplating those words.

“Your lineage only earned the right to an audition, not an actual position,” Aubrey points out. “You’re as legitimate a Bella as any of the other girls, legacy or not.”

Emily accidentally bites down too hard on her lip as the meaning finally starts to register. She curses under her breath and touches the skin to check that she isn’t bleeding. Aubrey catches that, and her voice softens even more. Emily has to lean in to hear her next sentence properly.

“Maybe the only thing holding you back from seeing yourself as a Bella is _you_.”

Emily releases a shaky sigh as the reality of the words sinks in. It’s true, she thinks. The girls may call her _Legacy_ , but they’ve never reduced her to that status; they’ve only ever treated her like a fellow sister. It’s just an innocent nickname, she realises now, but Emily’s had a longstanding fear of not being good enough to get into the Bellas.

To be constantly presented with the idea that she’s only a Bella because of who she’s related to… that notion fed straight into her insecurities and made her question her legitimacy as a Bella.

Aubrey must think she’s broken her, because she’s staring at Emily with concern etched between her brows. Emily is pretty sure she’s been standing with her mouth half-open for the past thirty seconds as her thoughts coalesce into a final conclusion.

_Oh-em-aca-gee, I’ve been a Bella this whole time._

Once that truth starts to settle in her head – and in her heart, she supposes, acknowledging the wild fluttering in her chest – the only thing she’s left with is astonishment. Over the course of one conversation, Aubrey has managed to find the root of a problem that’s been plaguing her for the entire year. She’s filled with an overwhelming amount of appreciation for the blonde, but she doesn’t know how to properly express her gratitude.

Just saying thanks wouldn’t be enough, Emily thinks. So she does what she does best – she lurches forward and pulls Aubrey into an embrace. Aubrey is wooden at first, but Emily isn’t surprised; she tends to forget that not everyone is a hugger. Aubrey surprises _her_ by relaxing and snaking her arms around Emily in return. Her hands are a comforting presence against Emily’s lower back, and Emily hums appreciatively into Aubrey’s shoulder.

Aubrey’s breath blows warmly but brokenly past Emily’s ear, and it takes Emily a few seconds to realise that Aubrey is laughing at her.

She pulls back quickly and starts forming an apology for invading her space, but Aubrey is just looking at her with undisguised _affection_ and Emily’s voice fails.

Aubrey tilts her head slightly, as if she’s considering her. Emily feels weirdly vulnerable, but not uncomfortably so.

“You’re different from them all. Softer,” Aubrey comments, but not unkindly.

Emily shrugs. “My mom says I’ve got a heart of margarine,” she says. At Aubrey’s confused expression, she huffs an embarrassed laugh and explains, “Softer than butter.”

Aubrey chuckles. “That’s sweet. I think the Bellas need someone like you – to help them remember what being a Bella means, beyond competitive acapella.”

Emily raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “You sound like you’re speaking from personal experience.”

“I am,” Aubrey acknowledges with a nod. “And something tells me that you need them too.”

“Oh?” Emily raises both brows now. “What makes you say that?”

Aubrey smiles knowingly. “Let them help you find who you are, but don’t let them change you.”

“Those sound like the same things,” Emily points out with a bewildered expression.

“They’re not,” Aubrey says, but doesn’t elaborate. Emily is about to ask, but Aubrey continues, “We should head back. I brought a hefty supply of marshmallows, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Fat Amy has commandeered all the provisions for herself.”

Later, when Emily divulges her insecurities about only being a legacy and not a real Bella, the girls are quick to assure her that she’s one of them. Aubrey smiles encouragingly at her from across the campfire. Emily’s heart grows almost full to bursting with happiness, and she thinks she finally understands what her mom's been talking about all these years.

***

Beca demands the back corner of the bus so she can sit alone with her laptop on her thighs and headphones over her ears. Chloe says that her co-captain has finally found inspiration for her mixes and asks if she can sit with Emily for the drive back to Barden. Emily nods without hesitation, happy to spend more time with any of her fellow Bellas.

Except maybe Fat Amy or Lilly. But both girls are preoccupied, thankfully – Fat Amy is in the driver’s seat and Lilly is on the bench directly behind her, playing with a box of matches.

“Flo told me you were nervous on the way to the Lodge,” Chloe begins.

Emily’s leg starts jiggling at Chloe’s unusually careful tone, but her panic is needless; Chloe shucks the uncharacteristic cautiousness within seconds of broaching the topic and proceeds to ask a candid question, perceptive but indiscreet as ever.

“Was it because of Aubrey?” she asks genuinely, and without a hint of accusation.

Emily laughs a little but doesn’t say anything. That must be an answer in itself, because Chloe shoots her a wink.

“When I told the Bellas that we were going to visit the Lodge, you started asking around about her. I put two and two together,” the redhead explains, even though Emily didn’t ask. “I know Beca and Amy don’t exactly sing Aubrey’s praises, so…”

Chloe shrugs and Emily nods in understanding. Beca and Fat Amy are almost inexplicable to a fault.

“I guess I _was_ nervous to finally meet Aubrey,” Emily acknowledges, somewhat sheepishly.

“And?” Chloe prods, oblivious as ever to personal boundaries. “She said you two managed to squeeze in a good talk.”

“You were right,” Emily admits. She smiles at the memory of last night, of Aubrey and the girls and _finally_ feeling like a Bella. “Aubrey is kind of amazing, actually.”


	2. two (see what a fire feels like)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the delay - uni kicked my ass and i've been in a mental coma since the end of semester, trying to recover from the stress. this chapter is just a whole lotta exposition to fill the gap between the retreat and worlds, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless :)

Emily watches Beca as she sits on the floor in the furthest corner of the living room, muttering to herself. Her pupils are pinpricks in the bright reflection of her laptop screen and she takes no notice of the other occupants in the room. She’s laser-focused on the music pounding through her headphones, which Emily can almost hear from her spot in the middle of the sectional, amongst the rest of the Bellas.

They’re sitting a good ten feet apart, but Emily can practically see Beca’s headphones pulsing along with the beat. She wonders how Beca’s hearing is still intact.

“Is this normal?” Emily wonders aloud. She’s confused by Beca’s self-imposed isolation during a meeting that the co-captain organised herself. “Beca didn’t do this when we were brainstorming for the convention centre performance.”

A few girls nod, but most don’t look up from whatever they’re individually occupied with.

“She’s just in the zone,” Cynthia Rose explains helpfully, glancing up at Emily from her iPad. “Give her a few minutes and she’ll be back with us.”

CR returns to her YouTube video and Emily’s eyes wander absently around the room for lack of anything better to do. Her gaze eventually settles on Chloe, who is the only one paying attention to Beca as she concentrates on the vocal mix for their Worlds performance.

Chloe is watching Beca with a soft smile, and the warmth in her eyes makes Emily feel like she’s intruding on a private moment. Emily isn’t one for subtlety though, and Chloe unsurprisingly catches her staring. Emily presses her lips together sheepishly, but Chloe doesn’t seem weirded out, just beckons at Emily with a curled finger. Emily dutifully leans forward, towards Chloe’s end of the couch.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen her so inspired,” Chloe discloses quietly. It’s almost like she’s telling Emily a secret, except Jessica and Ashley are sitting between them and can undoubtedly hear every word, and the other Bellas are very obviously listening in. “She used to come into my room and sit on the corner of my bed for hours, just working on her mixes.”

“Gay,” Fat Amy coughs, but Chloe is either astonishingly oblivious or just adept at ignoring her.

Emily notices Stacie smirk from her seat on the ottoman, but it’s half hidden behind her copy of _Marie Claire_. Emily’s gaze flits obliviously between Stacie and their co-captains for a while before Stacie notices her confusion. Stacie lowers her magazine slightly and offers Emily a wink, but no explanation.

Chloe saves Emily from her bewilderment by calling for everyone’s attention – gently of course, so as to not disturb Beca, who is working on two songs they’ve picked so far for the setlist. Beca once explained to Emily that she has to break songs down before she can put them back together as a mash-up, so that’s what Emily assumes she’s doing now.

“Do we have any more ideas for the set?” Chloe asks, looking around at the Bellas. “I think it’s safe to say we’re sticking with a theme – _Run the World_ screams girl power and the chorus of _Where Them Girls At_ is a perfect call to arms-”

“ _Where Them Girls At_ chorus,” Beca repeats abruptly, interrupting Chloe’s speech and addressing the room for the first time in fifteen minutes.

She pulls her headphones down around her neck and Emily marvels at how everyone freezes, waiting on Beca to speak. Beca starts instructing them without even looking up from her laptop.

“Mezzos take the lead. Altos and sopranos, come in with that background vocal after the first line, then split for the second line – half with the mezzos on lead vocal, half on background vocal.”

The Bellas comply without question, quickly delegating parts and settling into their harmonies. Beca nods to herself as they sing. As the last note fades out – courtesy of Fat Amy – Beca pulls her headphones back on. Emily wonders if her lack of acknowledgement is a bad sign.

Beca lifts one headphone cup off her ear only a few seconds later.

“CR,” she says, waving vaguely in the direction of the couch. Cynthia Rose sits up attentively. “ _Run the World_. Second half of the chorus. Blow me away, dude.”

Cynthia Rose shrugs nonchalantly and does as instructed. Emily can’t help smiling, because CR’s timbre is _amazing_ , as always.

Beca cocks her head while Cynthia Rose sings, looking much like a puppy tilting its head when listening to something outside the human hearing frequency. Emily knows Beca would hate the comparison to something so cute, and that only makes her smile wider. The rest of the Bellas sit with bated breath, waiting to see if Beca needs something else before they can continue with the brainstorming session.

“Altos,” Beca calls after a pregnant pause, and everyone collectively exhales. Emily would laugh if she wasn’t still intimidated by this (apparently) normal brainstorming process. “I need the _Lady Marmalade_ intro.”

Emily balks at the request because that’s not on the list of songs they’ve decided on for the set. But their altos – Fat Amy, Ashley and Flo – just nod at one another and sing as requested.

Beca hums and starts clicking rhythmically at the trackpad of her laptop when they wrap up. Emily can’t tell what she’s thinking at all. It’s making her nervous.

“Okay,” Beca eventually announces, nodding at her laptop screen. “CR, you take the lead through the _Where Them Girls At_ chorus, then transition straight into the second half of the _Run the World_ chorus. Altos and mezzos, stay on the _Where Them Girls At_ chorus as CR goes into _Run the World_. Sopranos?”

Emily looks uncertainly at Jessica, her fellow soprano. Jessica gives her an encouraging smile and pats her thigh for good measure.

“You know the synth sounds in _Where Them Girls At_?” Beca asks. Emily nods even though Beca can’t see, because she’s still neck-deep in her laptop. “I need you on that the whole way through.”

Jessica doesn’t seem fazed by the instruction and sinks back into the couch. That helps Emily relax a little too; she can probably just follow Jessica’s lead if she needs to.

Chloe voices the next question that Emily is thinking, “And what about _Lady Marmalade_?”

Beca finally looks up from her laptop.

“You’ll see,” is all she says, accompanied by a cryptic smile. “Is everyone good?”

There are nods around the room as Beca looks over them. Then she stares at Lilly, who is perched atop the back of the couch like a bird. Emily is a little unnerved by her, as usual, but Beca seems unruffled by Lilly’s unblinking gaze.

“You have free reign on the beat,” Beca tells her. “Count us in?”

Lilly nods and makes a little record scratch noise that Emily finds amusing. Beca catches Emily’s eye and smirks at her, then the Bellas begin singing.

_Where them girls at (oh)_   
_Where them girls at (oh)_   
_Who run this mother (hey sister, go sister)_   
_Who run this mother (soul sister, go, where them girls at)_   
_Who run the world (where them girls at, girls at, girls at, girls at)_   
_Who run the world (girls at, girls at, girls at)_   
_(Where them girls at)_

All in all, the arrangement is only twenty seconds long. There are definitely things that they need to tweak, but it still sounds _great_. Emily is floored by Beca’s ability to meld the songs together, and the rest of the girls seem equally pleased with the mash-up. Beca accepts their approval with her signature smirk, though it’s undercut by the slight blush on her cheeks.

“She’s so freaking cool,” Emily whispers to herself, continually in awe of Beca’s talent. She must not say it as quietly as she thinks though, because Chloe gives a breathy little laugh.

Chloe nods towards Beca, who has returned to her laptop to fiddle with a few more things. “She can hear all the harmonies in her head. The music comes together just like breathing. _Totes_ cool.”

Emily agrees, of course, but she can’t help feeling like this will be a lot to live up to when Beca and the rest of the girls graduate at the end of the year.

She tries to ignore the growing unease by focusing back on their brainstorming session. Thankfully, Beca sets her laptop aside only a moment later, and Emily welcomes the distraction that her presence brings. Beca looks visibly content with her progress on the vocal arrangement for their chosen songs and Emily can’t help how her fingers start tapping excitedly at her knees.

She’s always been a proximity empath when it comes to happiness. It’s a quality that Emily loves and loathes, because her natural enthusiasm amplifies to a hundred – on a one-to-ten scale – and other people find it intimidating.

That’s what her first (and last) boyfriend told her, anyway. They only dated for a few weeks over the summer before college. He was a nice kisser, but he was also a jerk who once said that acapella was a crime against “real” music. She’s glad that she broke up with him.

Beca drops down onto the ottoman beside Stacie, who is lounging languidly as she reads her magazine. Emily can’t help but look at her admiringly. Beca must misunderstand her expression though, because she offers an apologetic smile.

“Sorry if I offended you by like, being antisocial. I can get really into my mixes,” Beca says. She scrunches her nose at the ensuing silence from the Bellas. “Not even a single polite objection?” she tries, looking around the room, but the girls fastidiously avoid eye contact. “Thanks for being honest, I guess.”

“No worries,” Fat Amy says, oblivious to the sarcasm as she plays with her phone.

“I wasn’t offended,” Emily tries to assure Beca, who is staring at Amy with a little furrow between her brows. “I’m just, totally in awe of your mad skills.”

Beca grimaces and Emily feels her cheeks warm, because yeah, that wasn’t the best wording. Beca thanks her nonetheless, before addressing the whole group and asking whether anyone has more ideas for the Worlds setlist.

Fat Amy exaggeratedly flicks her iPhone off silent mode before pressing the lock button, so it locks with an audible click.

“Well,” she drawls. Beca starts eyeing Fat Amy warily; Emily can’t help mirroring the action. “You know how we let you dedicate part of our first ICCA finals set to your boyfriend?”

Beca looks unimpressed by the accusation. Emily isn’t exactly surprised when Fat Amy proceeds to stoke the fire.

“Don’t argue, Beca,” Fat Amy adds pointedly.

Beca scoffs and Emily winces because she’s totally feeding right into Amy’s trap.

“I’m not arguing,” Beca insists. “I didn’t even _say_ anythi-”

“Even though you didn’t ask,” Fat Amy cuts her off and Beca grits her teeth. Amy is so deliberately difficult sometimes. Emily questions what drove Beca to room with her in the Bella house. “We all knew it was for Jesse. I still can’t believe _The Breakfast Club_ is his favourite movie though. It’s a sham – you literally only see _one_ breakfast food the whole time-”

Chloe interrupts, “Amy, your point?”

“Right,” Fat Amy says. She looks as shocked as Emily feels about Chloe’s weirdly sharp tone. “Well. Um.”

Fat Amy pauses. If Emily had to describe it, she would say that Amy actually looks… bashful? She avoids looking at anyone as she stands from the couch and walks slowly toward the kitchen, which is just behind the living room.

Beca rolls her eyes at the dramatics. Emily sympathises with her. She’s come to realise that Fat Amy enjoys being the cause of chaos and discomfort, but her antics _can_ be tiring sometimes.

To be honest, Emily isn’t sure if Fat Amy even likes her. She’s only ever addressed Emily with insulting nicknames, and the one time she complimented her, it was backhanded. Emily wants to give her the benefit of the doubt and believe that it’s all just friendly teasing, but…

There’s a _lot_ of doubt to consider.

Fat Amy stops just outside the kitchen before turning slowly on the spot, until she’s half facing the kitchen and half facing the couch. Her next words come out in a mumbled rush, but everyone seems to catch them.

“Could I maybe add a little something-something to the Worlds set?”

“Ames…” Beca says exasperatedly, though not unkindly. “I know you’re patriotic, but for the last time, we’re _not_ using that Australian song about horses-”

“I wanna put a song in for Bumper,” Fat Amy mumbles, like she doesn’t want anyone to actually understand what she’s saying. “The one I sang to him after the retreat?”

Chloe softens. “Amy that’s actually really cute, why are you being so shy about it?”

Fat Amy grimaces. Beca looks inclined to agree. Emily almost laughs at how bad they are with expressions of emotion. Maybe _that’s_ why they’re such close friends.

“Wait,” Stacie interrupts, lowering her magazine with a frown. “Didn’t Beca use that Simple Minds song to woo Jesse-”

“Hold the fuck up,” Beca interjects, her expression somewhere between incredulous and insulted. “I was not trying to _woo_ him, I was trying to apologise for being a dick.”

No one looks like they believe her. Emily sends her a sympathetic smile.

Stacie dismisses Beca’s argument with a shrug. “Same difference – you guys still ended up together. Anyway,” she addresses Amy again. “Haven’t you and Bumper already made up?”

“We did a lot of making out,” Fat Amy hedges.

Chloe hums and nods politely. “On the lawn. We remember.”

“In vivid detail,” Emily adds under her breath, trying to repress a shudder.

Fat Amy hesitates, but something must convince her to finally come clean, because her expression hardens a little. Emily almost sags in relief at the reappearance of Amy’s regular temperament. She’s so used to Amy being apathetic; this brief interlude into vulnerability has been surreal.

“What I say now doesn’t leave these walls, or I will shove a pair of sticks into both ends and turn you all into human boomerangs. Lilly, I’m mostly talking to you.”

Lilly looks like she’s seriously contemplating the offer, and she and Fat Amy stare at each other for an uncomfortably long moment. They must come to some unspoken understanding, because Lilly eventually mimes zipping her lips shut. Emily almost laughs at the irony.

“If – and this is a big _if_ – if I ever have kids with him someday,” Her words make most of the Bellas recoil slightly. Thankfully, Fat Amy doesn’t seem to notice their visceral reactions. “I wanna show them the song that made me admit that I-” she wrinkles her nose. “- _love_ him. Plus, it’s the _World Acapella Championship_ – you know we’re gonna make daytime TV. I can get someone to DVR it. A 1080p memory for when my family history of Alzheimer’s comes around.”

Emily is reminded for the second time in so many minutes that Amy is capable of expressing feelings other than anger or hunger, or some combination of both. She can’t be blamed – Amy is angry and hungry a _lot._

Fat Amy is staring pointedly up at the ceiling now, a clear signal that confession time is over. Chloe’s eyes are shining, so she supposes that it’s a good thing; Chloe would no doubt want to delve further into Amy’s emotions, but Emily isn’t sure if anyone is ready for that.

“And,” Fat Amy adds, directing her gaze back towards the Bellas. “it would be pretty sweet if I could get my friends in on the arrangement too, since I wouldn’t have met Bumper if I hadn’t joined this group of aca-nerds.”

Chloe starts crying openly at the genuine admission of feelings. Emily is still holding a weak grudge against Fat Amy because she can’t mentally bleach the memory of Amy’s tongue in Bumper’s mouth, but she still thinks its sweet that Amy would want to dedicate a song to him.

Emily wonders who she would dedicate a song to. Her mom and dad? The Bellas? Her singular, short-lived ex-boyfriend?

In any case, Beca agrees to see how the song works with the current setlist and Amy gives her an appreciative nod. They look as eager to continue the conversation as someone who’s administering themselves a suppository, so Emily isn’t surprised when Beca abruptly changes the topic.

“Okay, guys,” Beca announces. She punctuates her words with a clap, but the action immediately makes her scowl. “Gross. I feel like a soccer mom trying to rally her brats back into the minivan.”

The imagery almost makes Emily snort.

“Amy, if you’d like to come back to the couch?” Beca phrases it like a suggestion, because Fat Amy is known to selectively ignore direct instructions. She continues once Fat Amy returns to her seat, “I actually have something to ask you guys now. But I have to get a certain someone’s permission first.”

Her words are followed by a few seconds of silence. Emily only realises that Beca is talking about _her_ when she feels the weight of the entire group staring.

Emily turns panicked eyes to Beca and points at her own chest. Beca nods.

“I finished the final mix for your song last night,” Beca explains. “I was wondering if I could play it for the girls.”

“You-” Emily can’t help releasing a breath of incredulous laughter. Her palms slide nervously against her jean-covered thighs. “You want to show everyone my song?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, dude,” Beca says reassuringly. “I’m obviously biased because I produced it, but I think it’s a great song.”

Emily can’t believe that this praise is coming from _Beca_ , of all people. She beams. “O-okay. Yeah! That’s cold. I mean, cool. Totally cool. You can show them.”

Beca retrieves her laptop and clicks around a bit. _Flashlight_ comes pouring through the living room speakers and Emily’s nerves start buzzing because she realises that she doesn’t know how anyone will react. Her head bobs along with the beat while her fingers claw apprehensively at her knees.

When the song comes to an end, Chloe is the first to speak.

“That was your audition song, wasn’t it?” Chloe recalls with a kind smile. “You’re really talented, Em. You too, Becs.”

Once Chloe gets the ball rolling, the rest of the Bellas start showering Emily with compliments. It’s almost overwhelming, if Emily is being honest, but she appreciates their positive comments nonetheless. Fat Amy even says she doesn’t mind the song, albeit grudgingly and only when Beca asks for her opinion outright. Emily thinks Beca might have done that for her benefit, so she sends her a small smile.

“The Bellas sound-” Beca begins when the noise dies down. She stops and corrects herself. “- _our_ sound is unique in a lot of ways. We’re the only group that features a female rapper and beatboxer – thanks CR and Lilly.”

Beca ignores Chloe’s half-hearted protest of _“vocal percussionist”_ – Emily thinks that Chloe and Aubrey are literally the only ones who _don’t_ refer to Lilly as their beatboxer – and continues on.

“And no one else uses mash-ups like we do. It’s what we’re known for, in collegiate acapella, at least.”

She closes her laptop and places it behind her on the ottoman. “But if Worlds is going to be our last performance together, I want to do something else. Something _more_. And I have an idea in mind.”

Beca locks eyes with Emily. Emily looks right back at her, confused.

“Emily, I’d like to use your song in our set.”

Emily stares at her unblinkingly for a few seconds. Then the weight of the request finally hits her.

“Oh-em-aca-gee!” she squeals.

 _Her_ song, in the Bellas setlist for a worldwide acapella competition. This is so far beyond anything she’s ever pinned to her dream board!

Beca looks relieved by her reaction. Emily grins, unable to contain her delight.

“Is that a yes?”

Beca’s tone is teasing, but Emily is too excited to be embarrassed. She nods enthusiastically and Beca gives the Beca-equivalent of a laugh – a sharp exhale through the nose, accompanied by her trademark smirk.

“And what say you, Bellas?” Beca asks the rest of the girls. “No pressure, but it’s going to be really awkward if you say no now.”

There’s no protest – not even from Fat Amy – and Emily feels like she might combust from the warmth swirling around in her chest. She wants to do a celebratory dance, but she settles for clapping her hands and rubbing her palms together excitedly.

Beca homes in on the action though, and her expression slackens. Emily’s hands immediately curl into loose fists and she lowers them into her lap self-consciously, unsure if she’s accidentally broken an unwritten rule about bodily sounds.

She’s read about how some people dislike the sound of chewing, how they’re super sensitive to the noise. Maybe this is one of those situations.

 _Oh no… Beca must hate the sound of skin-on-skin_ , Emily thinks, working herself into a panic. _I’ve accidentally triggered her and now she hates me and she’s not gonna want to use my song in the setlist… oh stars, Beca has a criminal record, she could probably find a way to send me to jail for offending her. I should just quit the Bellas right now, shouldn’t I? I mean, who even needs to go to college? Maybe I could revisit the idea of sheep-herding in Iceland; sheep are cute, and I feel like it would be a rewarding career-_

“Em. Legacy. _Emily_.”

“Maybe I should flash her. My boobs have been known to revive people from catatonic states.”

“I really don’t think that’s necessary, Amy.”

“Uh, you don’t get a monopoly on questionably homosexual behaviours around here, Beca.”

“What does that even _mean_?”

When Emily manages to pull herself from her spiralling thoughts, the first thing she sees is Beca and Fat Amy locked in an intense staring contest. Fat Amy is the one who concedes, but she looks weirdly triumphant anyway. Beca shakes her head and refocuses on Emily.

“Where the hell did you go?”

“Um,” Emily wrinkles her nose, unsure how to answer succinctly. “Iceland?”

She doesn’t offer any further explanation, despite the clear confusion on Beca’s face.

“You know what?” Beca says lightly. “I’m not even gonna ask. Just do that thing again.”

“What thing?” Emily questions, frowning. “Zone out?”

“No, not-” Beca huffs exasperatedly and then clarifies, “The other thing. Clap and rub your hands.”

Emily is uncertain whether Beca is being sarcastic or not. She glances at the other girls, but they offer no help. They continue to regard her predicament like a particularly boring TV commercial. Beca sighs.

“For real, Legacy. Clap and rub.”

Emily finally does as she’s told, albeit with extreme reluctance. Beca proceeds to stare at her hands for some time, long enough for Emily to grow antsy.

“Did I do something wrong, or-”

Beca finally looks up then. Emily is bewildered by her growing smile. “The opposite, actually.”

The co-captain’s gaze flickers back down to Emily’s hands for a second before she addresses the whole room.

“Bellas, I think I’ve just figured out the intro to our set.”

***

They spend the afternoon playing around with rhythmic clapping and trying to make other sounds with their hands. Emily never thought she’d require this much coordination to keep up in competitive acapella, but the Bellas are consistently proving her wrong.

It’s fun nonetheless, and Beca wraps up their brainstorming session by announcing that they have a solid range of things to work with.

Most of the girls jump at the dismissal and disperse throughout the house. Beca and Chloe, however, remain in the living room and continue to discuss their setlist. Emily should really be heading back to her dorm to work on an essay, but a lingering question makes her drop her messenger bag by the door and return to the couch.

“Hey Beca? Chloe? Can I talk to you guys?”

The co-captains turn their heads toward Emily in perfect synchronicity.

“Whaddup, Junk?” Beca asks, clicking at her ever-present laptop a few times before putting it aside and looking up at her with a raised brow. “Is this about Benji?”

“Oh, isn’t he a sweetheart?” Chloe coos. She scoots over and pats the new space between her and Beca. “Did he finally ask you out?”

Emily drops down onto the couch harder than expected. “He asked me out on aca-initiation night,” she admits. “I told him that I wanted to focus on college and the Bellas. Are you saying he’s still interested in me?”

“Yeah, Em,” Chloe says, laughing like Emily has just delivered the punchline of a great joke. “He has the biggest toner for you. Except not in his pants – in his heart.”

Emily doesn’t know if she’s supposed to be flattered by that. Beca seems similarly perplexed. She stares at Chloe for a few seconds.

“I don’t even…” Beca squints confusedly at her co-captain. “Why are we friends again?”

“Because you have a heart-toner for me too, Beca. Don’t deny it,” Chloe says breezily.

“Whatever, weirdo. Anyway,” Beca turns her focus back to Emily. “I threw out that clause about your vocal cords being ripped out by wolves during my first year as captain, so don’t stress about hooking up with someone from a different aca-team. I still think Aubrey is certifiable for making us agree to that in the first place, but I trust the Trebles now.”

She pauses and then corrects herself. “I trust Jesse and Benji, at least.”

Emily doesn’t even know where to start, so she decides to just sidestep the topic. “That’s not actually what I wanted to talk to you guys about?”

Beca’s mouth snaps shut. “Right,” she says dumbly. “What’s up, kid?”

Emily is momentarily disconcerted because Beca is like six inches shorter than her, so it’s weird to hear her refer to Emily as a _kid_. She blinks hard and refocuses.

“I have a suggestion, for the set?”

“Oh,” Chloe says, clearly surprised. “Something you didn’t want to say when we were workshopping with the other girls?”

“No, nothing like that,” Emily assures them. Chloe is watching her attentively now, as is Beca, so Emily continues, “Fat Amy’s request, her tribute to Bumper? It got me thinking…”

***

Emily didn’t know that the back of her knees could sweat so much. She supposes it makes sense, since they’re basically the armpits of the legs. Still, she’s glad she wore yoga pants today.

She doesn’t understand why she’s so nervous. For all intents and purposes, this is just going to be another Bellas rehearsal, only with one _tiny_ difference: Aubrey is driving down from the Lodge to see their progress with the Worlds setlist.

That’s what Emily told her she’d be doing, at least.

She’s weirdly apprehensive about Aubrey’s presence, which makes no sense, because _she’s_ the one that wanted the former captain to come to rehearsal – in fact, she asked Chloe for Aubrey’s number so that she could call and personally invite her.

She made a plan and she’s executing it and it’s going _well_ , so why is she wearing down the soles of her shoes with her non-stop pacing?

The heavy fire door clangs open and Emily instinctively turns towards the sound. Aubrey walks into the rehearsal space with Chloe hanging from her elbow, chattering away about something or other. The pale pink shorts and white tank top are a pleasant departure from anything Emily has ever seen Aubrey in; she only wore khakis while the Bellas were at the Lodge, and most of her pictures on Facebook are pre- and post-performance candids uploaded by Chloe.

Aubrey smiles when she catches Emily’s eye. Emily doesn’t hesitate to return the gesture, and just like that, all of her anxieties melt away.

Sure, they’ve technically only met once, and Emily was practically quivering in fear until the very last night of the “retreat” (Aubrey is pretty damn intimidating when she’s barking orders), but they’re aca-sisters and that’s a bond for _life_.

Aubrey doesn’t _scare_ her; Emily is just nervous because she wants to make Aubrey proud.

Nevertheless, she panics a little as Aubrey approaches and ends up sticking her hand out. Almost simultaneously, Aubrey surprises her by pulling her into a hug. The blonde laughs lightly when they separate. Her cheeks are tinged pink; Emily imagines hers look much the same.

“Sorry, I realised too late that you were going for a handshake,” Aubrey says, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear and glancing down, uncharacteristically demure. “I figured since we hugged once at the Lodge…”

“No, I was totally going for a hug! Right in there with both arms, except like… one arm at a time?” Emily tries. She can tell that Aubrey isn’t fooled though, so she relents. “Yeah, sorry. I panicked.”

For once, Emily is glad that Chloe has no concept of discretion.

“You two are _so_ precious. It’s like watching two beautiful baby giraffes interact for the first time,” Chloe declares, looking between Aubrey and Emily with a wide smile. She then glances around the room, no doubt realising her co-captain’s absence. “Where’s Beca?”

“Hiding from the she-devil, obviously,” Beca announces, her voice echoing from underneath the bleachers. She emerges with a teasing smirk, laptop in hand. “But don’t stop on my account; I was enjoying the social equivalent of two-car pile-up.”

Beca doesn’t seem fazed by Aubrey and Emily’s non-response. She rounds the grand piano in the corner of the rehearsal space and sets her laptop on the closed lid.

“Sup Aubs,” Beca greets as they migrate towards her. “You didn’t reply to my last text.”

Aubrey raises a brow. “You sent me a fifteen-minute video of Fat Amy running operatic vocal scales.”

“With the caption: ninety-nine problems but my pitch ain’t one,” Beca adds, lips twisted in amusement. When Aubrey only tilts her head, Beca sighs. “Oh, come on – that one was funny.”

Aubrey hums indifferently. “I didn’t realise the Bellas were a comedy troupe now.”

“We’re not-” Beca stops short, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. “You know what? You’re fishing for a response, but I’m not going to bite. Nope.”

Safe from Beca’s gaze, Aubrey’s lips curl into her mouth like she’s biting them to prevent laughter, and Emily realises that she’s just messing with her. Chloe winks at Emily, obviously in on the joke, and Emily’s nose crinkles in amusement.

***

Beca shows Aubrey the mostly-finished vocal mix for Worlds. Her gaze flickers between Aubrey and the laptop screen throughout the entire track, probably trying to gauge her opinion. Emily hopes Beca has more luck understanding Aubrey’s microexpressions than she does.

Afterward, Aubrey offers a genuine compliment about the arrangement and – true to form – points out areas of improvement. Despite their pointed words and sometimes cutting remarks, Emily can tell that they respect one another.

When it comes to acapella, at least.

Chloe steps in to show Aubrey their tentative choreography, which covers up until the transition to _Flashlight_. Then Chloe asks Emily to take the lead, since it’s her song, and Emily admits that she’s not much of a choreographer. Chloe insists that she try anyway.

Emily takes the cue and grows emboldened by Aubrey’s occasional nodding as she brainstorms ideas aloud. Beca tries to argue with Emily about the idea of positioning her and Chloe at the front of the group as they move into the song.

“You’re our team captains,” Emily rationalises. “And you’re leading us into our final performance. It’s symbolic!”

“Flashlight is your song,” Beca returns. “Why can’t you be at the front?”

“Because-” Emily breathes sharply through her nose, trying to find the right words. “I wrote it but it’s not _my_ song anymore. The Bellas were my biggest inspiration for finishing it, so it’s like, _our_ song now.”

Chloe coos at the sentiment and traps Emily in a sweaty hug, smacking a litany of kisses on her cheek.

“Okay, aca-mom, cool it,” Beca teases, watching the scene with her arms crossed loosely across her chest. “You’re embarrassing the kid. Look at her – she’s all red in the face.”

Chloe leans up on her toes to press one last kiss to Emily’s forehead and then finally backs off. Emily gives her a flustered smile.

“I’ll agree to the arrangement on one condition,” Beca proposes. Emily turns to her expectantly. “You have to stand up front with me and Chloe. All three of us, centre stage.”

Emily considers the suggestion.

“The Bellas could fan out from either side of you three,” Aubrey murmurs. “It would be an aesthetically pleasing arrangement.”

Beca nods her head at Aubrey. “Even the senior aca-exec approves of the idea. Come on, Em, do it for the aesthetic.”

Emily hesitates, but Aubrey makes a good point, so she concedes.

“Awesome,” Beca says before glancing around the room. “Not to derail our progress, but is now a good time to take a break? I desperately need coffee.”

“How long until the rest of the girls arrive?” Aubrey asks.

Emily knows exactly how long they have, because she made sure that Aubrey would arrive with time to spare before rehearsal – enough time for Beca and Chloe to walk through the arrangement with her, and for Emily to ask her an important question. Emily checks her phone for show anyway and tells them that they have about thirty minutes.

“You had two coffees before we left the house, and we’ve only been working for a half-hour,” Chloe scolds Beca.

“But I was here even earlier than that, labouring over the mix for our vocal arrangement while you went to get Aubrey,” Beca pushes, turning her laptop screen towards Chloe and gesturing at the jagged waves and equaliser bars that Emily can’t make sense of. “Besides, like Emily said, we have plenty of time before the Bellas get here. The closest café is only a minute away.”

Chloe sighs, defeated. “Fine. You two,” she points at Emily and Aubrey. “Stay here and keep brainstorming choreo. We’ll bring coffee back for you. Cappuccino with extra chocolate powder, right Em?”

Emily nods and Beca wrinkles her nose in distaste.

“You can get Emily’s flavoured milk; I’ll get Aubrey’s coffee,” she tells Chloe and then addresses Aubrey. “Black, just like your soul?”

Aubrey smiles wryly.

Chloe scoffs as they gather their things. “You drink black coffee too, idiot.”

“The joke's on you – I never said I had a soul,” Beca counters as they head for the exit. “It’s pure _coffee_ , dude. No sugar or milk, exactly how God intended.”

“God _clearly_ didn’t have any tastebuds, Beca…”

The door closes behind them, blocking out their light-hearted quibbling and leaving Emily and Aubrey to continue their brainstorming session. Aubrey suggests that the choreography should be kept simple during Emily’s song, in favour of allowing the audience to focus on the music itself. Emily agrees without complaint.

Then Aubrey turns to Emily with a questioning look on her face.

“What’s really going on here?”

Aubrey’s tone isn’t accusatory – she sounds more confused than anything – but Emily’s heart sinks to her stomach anyway.

Aubrey presses her lips together in a tight smile. “I can’t offer anything like Beca and Chloe can, with the vocal mix or the choreography, and it looks like most of that is covered anyway. These ideas, they’re nothing you guys couldn’t have come up with on your own. I’m flattered that you asked me to come down, but what am I really doing here?”

Emily didn’t expect Aubrey to catch onto the plan at all, let alone so early into her visit. She could try to lie, to stall until Beca and Chloe get back, but she’s not sure she can hold out against Aubrey. Emily doesn’t want to insult Aubrey’s intelligence, so she decides to be honest.

“The truth is…” Emily says hesitantly. “I didn’t ask you here for help with the Worlds setlist. I want you to be part of the performance.”

Aubrey looks stunned. Emily thinks she might have broken her, but she eventually ends the uncomfortable silence.

“Emily…” Aubrey begins uncertainly.

Emily can tell that Aubrey wants to turn her down gently, so she persists, “I want you on stage during _Flashlight_. You and as many of the former Bellas as possible.”

“Emily-” Aubrey tries again, but Emily blazes over her, determined to make her understand why this is so important.

“You helped redefine the Bellas, and especially considering our _girl power_ theme, I think that’s something we should showcase," Emily insists.

“I didn’t redefine the Bellas, that was all because of Beca’s talent,” Aubrey corrects her. “And Cynthia Rose’s rapping, Lilly’s vocal percussion, Chloe’s bass…”

“Sure, Beca and the girls helped change our _sound_ ,” Emily agrees, but Aubrey isn’t seeing her point. She tries again, “You helped redefine the Bellas as a _concept_. I’ve heard Chloe talk about how hard it was to recruit anyone after what happened at the 2011 ICCA finals.”

Aubrey averts her gaze at the reference to her junior year performance. Emily feels terrible for bringing it up, but Aubrey needs to understand how much she means to their little family.

“You carried the Bellas name when there was barely anything to carry,” Emily asserts. “Your perseverance is the reason the name stuck around long enough for _this_ group of girls to come together.”

Aubrey sighs and Emily’s chest feels a little tight, because she obviously still doesn’t get it.

“Emily, that’s really sweet,” Aubrey says with a genuine smile. “But this is supposed to be _your_ defining moment with the Bellas, just like my last performance with them after my crushing _failure_ -” she stops and exhales heavily, like she’s clearing away the memory. “I don’t want to intrude on that,” she finishes softly.

“What if I want you to be part of my moment?” Emily asks seriously. She furrows her brows and then revises her words, “Our moment, I mean. The Bellas.”

Aubrey still looks uncertain, but Emily thinks that she’s wearing her down.

“This group… we’re something special,” Emily says earnestly. “Don’t you think we should celebrate that?”

“Of course,” Aubrey agrees easily, and then tries to change tack, “But I’m not even a current Bella. I don’t know if I can compete with you-”

Emily cuts her off. “There’s no rules against it,” she informs Aubrey. “This isn’t a collegiate acapella competition; it’s a worldwide competition between acapella groups. Anyone can take part, I checked.”

“Oh,” Aubrey says quietly, and Emily hopes that the rest of her argument has been invalidated, because she’s really not very good at debating. It’s a small miracle that she’s even gotten this far. “What do Beca and Chloe think about this?” Aubrey asks instead.

“They already know,” Emily tells her cheerfully. Aubrey rolls her eyes at that, but her exasperation is dulled by the small smile on her lips. “Beca’s been working on another vocal arrangement to show you how the harmonies might work with all the former Bellas. I was supposed to wait for her and Chloe, so they could show you but, well…”

Emily gestures awkwardly at her and Aubrey breathes a laugh.

“I get the feeling that I never had a choice in the matter,” Aubrey says dryly, but Emily notes the way her lips are pursed like she’s trying not to smile.

Emily feels her cheeks heat up. “I didn’t exactly factor in a refusal?” she admits sheepishly. “I’ve already been in contact with a dozen former Bellas thanks to my mom, and they all said yes.”

Aubrey looks at her thoughtfully, like she’s a particularly intriguing puzzle. Her unwavering gaze makes Emily’s skin prickle and her fingers start trilling against her thighs.

“You really are something else,” Aubrey says eventually, though Emily doesn’t know what to make of her tone.

Beca and Chloe choose that moment to return to the rehearsal space, and Emily is forced to shelve her confusion for later. As they walk through the door, coffee cups in hand, Beca squints at Emily and Aubrey.

“You caved, didn’t you?” Beca asks Emily.

Emily tries to think of something to say to save face, but her jaw just hangs open uselessly. Beca’s self-assured smirk grows wider as she and Chloe approach. Aubrey chuckles and beats Emily to the punch.

“She told me everything,” Aubrey confirms, plucking her coffee from Beca’s fingers.

“Aw, Em,” Chloe whines, handing Emily a to-go cup. “I had so much faith in you.”

“In all the years we’ve known each other, I don’t think you’ve won a single bet,” Beca muses and then takes a satisfied sip of her coffee. “That’s ten bucks added to your tab, Chlo.”

Chloe wrinkles her nose and pulls her phone out, presumably to add that to her debt list.

“Did you at least try to lie your way out?” Beca asks. Emily shakes her head lowly, which makes Beca smile crookedly. “You’re sweet, kid, but we _really_ need to work on your response to high-pressure situations.”

Emily nods and lifts her cup to her lips, feeling appropriately chastised. The door bursts open then, and to everyone’s utter surprise, Fat Amy strolls in. Emily thinks that this is the first time Amy has ever arrived _early_ to rehearsal.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite aca-autocrat. What’s your skinny arse doing back here?” Fat Amy greets Aubrey but doesn’t give her a chance to respond. “Wait, is this a cardio-intervention? If it is, I think I’m about to suddenly come down with something and have to leave immediately.”

She starts backing away slowly, but then her eyes lock onto Beca’s coffee cup and she smiles widely at their co-captain. Beca shakes her head firmly.

“Is that for me?” Fat Amy asks, advancing on Beca.

Beca holds the cup to her chest with both hands. “Amy, no-”

Her protests fall on deaf ears. Fat Amy wrests the coffee from her grip and takes a long pull, but she immediately dribbles her mouthful back into the cup and retches for a few seconds.

“Ugh,” Fat Amy wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “The last time I tasted something that bad, I was going down on Bumper in a mud bath.”

Emily’s stomach roils. Beca grimaces.

“Thanks for the visual, Ames.”


	3. three (the hope of being sunkissed)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this chapter is a monster and it’s more angsty than comedic, but i hope the tonal shift isn’t too weird. also, i apologise in advance (you’ll find out why)

Graduation day is _intense_. It's not Emily’s graduation, obviously – she still has three years to go – but all the other Bellas.

Surprisingly, Beca is the only one on time, but that’s probably because she doesn’t do anything different aside from adding her cap and gown. Emily does her best to help the other girls get ready, curling Jessica’s hair and getting all the crumbs out of Fat Amy’s cap, which she’d been using as a bowl for potato chips. She even suffers through a risqué photoshoot for Stacie, catching sight of enough skin to remind her to wear underwear beneath her rented academic regalia.

She emphasises the _rented_ part, because she’s not sure that Barden University has ever washed them. Plus, the graduation ceremony is an outdoor affair at midday, and they’re reaching the end of spring; Emily shudders at the thought of basting in the sweat of dozens of other people. Being a super-senior three times over, poor Chloe couldn’t afford dry cleaning and was forced to use half a can of body spray to cover up the pungent vinegary smell of her gown.

When everyone eventually gathers on the front stoop, Emily takes a bunch of pictures on her phone, four other phones, three compact cameras, Flo’s hot pink Motorola Razr, and a DSLR camera that Lilly inexplicably pulls from her gown. Beca smiles for exactly _one_ of those pictures (Emily makes a mental note of which device it happens on – an iPhone with a purple case, which belongs to Ashley, she thinks) and then they have literal minutes to dash across campus to get to the ceremony.

Emily is grateful for the ticket that Beca tossed her way the other night – a gift from her dad in case she wanted to invite anyone else. She needlessly explains that Emily is literally the only other person she could bring, because her mom already has a ticket, her dad will be sitting with the faculty, and the rest of her friends will be graduating alongside her. Emily is touched nonetheless.

The commencement speech is predictably boring, but Emily suffers alone because the only people she knows are in the crowd of soon-to-be graduates. She could talk to Chloe’s parents, who are sitting nearby, but Mrs Beale is holding a camera in each hand and Mr Beale is openly weeping. Emily catches him mouthing something like _seven years of student loans_ and decides not to impose.

She cheers for all the Bellas (and also the Treblemakers, out of aca-solidarity) and claps so hard that her hands tingle long after the last person crosses the stage to receive their parchment. She might even cry a little, but the tears are surmounted by the glowing pride she feels for each and every one of her girls. She gets trapped in the post-ceremony throng, with everyone rushing to find one another and photographers running around taking pictures. When she finally escapes, she makes her way back to the Bella house, where the girls agreed to regroup.

Emily catches sight of blonde hair as soon as she walks in, and she breaks into a smile. She greets Aubrey with a hug – she even makes sure its mutual this time – and tells Aubrey that she looks beautiful in her pastel blue dress. Aubrey smiles prettily and returns the compliment.

“I thought you weren’t coming until later tonight. Did you watch the ceremony?” Emily asks, scanning the living room but only seeing unfamiliar faces. Aubrey explains that Chloe’s brother couldn’t make it, so Chloe offered her the extra ticket just this morning. Emily pouts at the news. “I wish you’d told me you were coming early; it would have been nice to sit with a friend.”

“Actually,” Aubrey says with a muted laugh. “I realised I was sitting behind you when Cynthia Rose was called up and you started crying. I would have said something… but you didn’t stop crying until after Jessica walked the stage, and I couldn’t find it in me to interrupt.”

“That, uh, that was very kind of you,” Emily acknowledges. Then she wrinkles her nose and admits, “Super embarrassing for me though.”

Aubrey ducks her head a little. Emily thinks it’s to hide her amusement and save her from further embarrassment, except Emily can clearly see the way the corners of Aubrey’s lips pull upwards, so her internal shame-o-meter continues to climb steadily anyway. Another glance reveals none of the Bellas in the growing crowd of family members and friends from home – they’re probably upstairs, fixing their hair and makeup after sitting in the heat for so long, or still out getting professional photos taken – and Emily returns her focus to Aubrey.

Which is bad idea, because Aubrey is now watching her with an indecipherable smile. The expression makes Emily antsy, and she doesn’t know whether it’s a good-antsy or a bad-antsy. Emily is self-aware enough to realise that Aubrey exerts a weird power over her, flinging her wildly from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other, but she doesn’t really know what it means.

Emily has never felt as flustered around anyone as she has around Aubrey. She thinks it might be a case of hero worship, but if that were true, shouldn’t she feel this way around Beca and Chloe, since she admires her captains just as much? Her feelings are a confusing knot in her chest that she isn’t sure how to untangle.

To be honest, she's not really sure she  _wants_ to untangle them either - at least not right now.

“Do you want a drink?” Emily blurts, eyes darting to the kitchen counter where a row of liquor bottles and a cooler full of mixers are waiting –  the first distraction she can find. “I could use a drink. I’m- I’m gonna. Yep.”

She unceremoniously abandons Aubrey for the kitchen, but a firm hand on her wrist prevents her from pouring a double shot of vodka into a solo cup. Aubrey either has poor circulation and ice-cold hands, or Emily is running a seriously high fever. Maybe both.

“Not while the parents are here,” Aubrey tells Emily quietly, pulling the vodka bottle from her grip and replacing the cap. “You’re barely 18, and I think Jessica or Ashley’s dad is a police officer. Also, it’s two in the afternoon.”

“Oh,” Emily says dumbly, still reeling from the phantom chill of Aubrey’s touch.

“I’m not saying you can’t drink at all,” Aubrey assures her, filling the cup with orange soda instead. Emily wonders whether Aubrey knows that’s her favourite. “It’ll just have to wait until tonight, when the family members go home and the proper aca-celebrations begin.”

Then Aubrey smiles that smile again, and Emily realises that she’s the one burning up.

***

By late afternoon, everyone’s families have said their goodbyes and Emily is granted permission from Aubrey, Chloe and Beca to have a few drinks.

Well, _Aubrey_ gives her permission. Chloe tells her that she’ll be keeping an eye on her, accompanied by an emphatic wink that Emily doesn’t know how to interpret, because she knows that drunk Chloe has no sense of preservation – for herself or anyone else. Beca just pours her a drink outright.

Emily has also been avoiding Aubrey for hours. She doesn’t do anything obvious, doesn’t completely ignore Aubrey in conversation or give her a wide berth, but she does slip away whenever she finds herself and Aubrey in a dwindling circle of people. It helps that the Trebles have migrated over from their own party, so there are a few more bodies that Emily can use as a buffer.

She knows it’s not fair to Aubrey, since she technically didn’t do anything wrong, but Emily has always had a low tolerance for keeping her feelings inside, and she won’t let her emotional confusion overshadow tonight’s celebrations.

Aubrey is the one that makes Emily feel weird, ergo, she needs to maintain her distance.

Not forever, of course. Just for now – for the sake of the party.

So Emily dances with Jessica and Ashley when Taylor Swift comes blaring through the living room speakers, takes a shot of what tastes like gasoline with Lilly, and rinses her mouth in the upstairs bathroom while Stacie considers aloud which of the Trebles will be her last hurrah. She tries to hang out with Beca, but she’s busy babysitting Jesse, who is trying to prove that he’s sober even though he can’t look at her without going cross-eyed.

She finds Chloe in a corner with her head pressed against the wall. When Emily asks if she’s okay, she receives a one-sided, semi-coherent argument about the blonde leader from Das Sound Machine and something about a jeca. Emily thinks Chloe might be talking about a doctor’s check-up, like the ones she goes to every few weeks to make sure her vocal cords are still node-free. Emily nods along with her ramblings and when it sounds like she’s done, she fills Chloe’s special yellow cup with water and makes sure Chloe finishes the whole thing.

Then she mixes another vodka with orange soda for herself.

Cynthia Rose asks Emily to act as a lookout so that she can surreptitiously hand Flo a thick stack of bills. CR doesn’t fill her in on _who_ she’s supposed to look out for, but Emily accepts the role anyway, because she’s flattered that they trust her enough to ask. While the girls do their business behind her back, Emily sips from her cup and warily eyes anyone that wanders too close. Their behaviour is something that she should probably question, but she’s got enough of a buzz going to let it slide.

Benji comes through the front door as Emily is rabbiting away from Aubrey in yet another shrinking group of people, and she seizes the new opportunity. She asks him where he’s been – the rest of the Trebles arrived hours ago – but he gestures that he can’t hear her, which makes sense, because they’re standing next to a speaker in the living room and one of Beca’s mixes is blasting a new set of holes in Emily’s head.

Emily leads him over to the staircase. Guests have been banned from the second floor upward, so it’s much quieter here. She smooths her dress underneath her butt and plonks down on the steps, groaning a little because wood flooring is _solid_. Benji tries to cover his laughter with his hand, which makes Emily blush.

“I didn’t think fashionably late was your style,” she quips.

“Oh, it’s definitely not,” Benji agrees, sitting gingerly on the step beside her. “I’m more of a fifteen-minutes-early-to-being-fifteen-minutes-early kind of person.”

It sounds like something Aubrey would do too. Emily smiles at that, until she remembers that she’s not supposed to be thinking about Aubrey tonight.

“And yet,” she teases Benji, checking her non-existent wristwatch. “You’re late to your own graduation celebrations.”

“I promised my parents I would have dinner with them first,” Benji says sheepishly, pulling a shiny quarter from thin air. He makes it disappear and then reappear behind Emily’s ear, and smiles at Emily’s delighted (and maybe slightly drunken) giggle. He explains further, “They flew in for the ceremony, and I wanted to spend some time with them before they head back to Ohio.”

The coin looks like it’s jumping between Benji’s fingers of its own accord, but Emily manages to tear her gaze from it and meet his eyes.

“Oh, you’re from Ohio? Me too!”

They trade stories about their hometowns – Emily is from Columbus, Benji is from Cincinnati, and both are apparently equally boring – and Benji gets super enthusiastic about the time he went to Columbus for a magic convention. He stops short though, part-way through an anecdote about a three-hour workshop on sleight of hand (complete with demonstrations using his quarter), and Emily watches his brows draw together.

“I mean,” Benji shrugs, his eyes darting down and away. Gone is the excitement he was almost bursting with seconds ago. “It was cool. Nothing special.”

He’s feigning nonchalance, that much is obvious, but Emily doesn’t understand why. The alcohol makes her brazen enough to nudge him lightly.

“I wanna hear more about it,” she tells him with an encouraging smile.

Benji’s quarter slips from his fingers and he hastens to scoop it up. “Oh. Uh, really?”

Emily tilts her head at his surprised tone. “Yeah,” she says sincerely.

“Well,” Benji gives a nervous hum of laughter and tosses the coin up, but he fumbles the catch and it bounces down the steps. “Okay, that can just- it can stay down there.”

He directs an embarrassed smile somewhere over the bannister, his cheeks and neck bright red. Emily is strangely endeared by his awkwardness.

“This interaction is going against all precedents,” he admits when he meets Emily’s eyes again. “People usually tell me that I’m weird, or that magic is for nerds. Sometimes both.”

Emily frowns. “They’re a bag of dicks,” she says decisively. Benji snorts a little, which makes Emily laugh too, and she adds, “Sorry if that was crass, but I mean it.”

Benji smiles at that. They chat for a while, mostly about Benji’s close-up magic, and he retrieves his quarter to show her some more tricks. Emily startles when a tiny furry head with beady eyes pops up from underneath his collar. Benji apologises profusely for Lando Calratian, but Emily takes pity on the rat – she suspects the little guy was overheating under Benji’s polo shirt, so she asks to hold him, stroking his fur while she and Benji talk.

Now that the school year is over, Emily kind of wishes she’d given Benji a proper chance, but the Bellas were always going to be her first priority and she doesn’t regret giving them her focus.

Emily hears Beca calling name from somewhere nearby, and soon enough, the co-captain swings around the corner. Her eyes are half-lidded and she’s wearing what’s surely an alcohol-induced smile.

“Oh, hey Benji, didn’t realise you’d arrived,” Beca greets, glancing between them with a raised brow. Emily steadfastly avoids eye contact, because she knows exactly what kind of look Beca would send her. “Can I borrow Em for a sec? The Bellas are having a weird musical showdown.”

Benji opens and closes his mouth a few times, but no noise comes out. He ends up just bobbing his head, and Emily pats his knee sympathetically. She passes Lando Calratian back and leaves them with a small smile.

“We need you to be the judge,” Beca explains, leading Emily through the kitchen.

They pass Jesse with a wave (Emily) and a high five (Beca), and then Beca steers Emily out into the backyard. Emily’s eyes widen at the sight of the Bellas standing in a haphazard circle. For a group of intoxicated college grads, they’re ominously still and quiet. Emily gasps when it hits her.

“Holy shit, are the Bellas just a cover-up for a cult? Are we in a _cult_? Beca, oh my God, we’re in a-”

Emily starts gesturing wildly as her panic builds, and Beca wrests her arms down to her sides with a sigh.

“We’re not in a cult, Legacy. Just a stupid drunk acapella group that makes stupid drunk decisions.”

“Oh,” That makes more sense. Emily’s shoulders relax from their positions up near her ears. Beca slowly releases her hold on Emily’s forearms. Emily is still confused though. “What exactly…?”

“You and Aubrey have had the least to drink,” Beca says, and Emily risks a glance over to the person she’s been avoiding all night. “Aubrey is also completely biased against me, so,” Emily can practically hear Beca’s eyes rolling into the back of her head. “You’re Switzerland. We need you to pick the winner.”

“And the competition?” Emily asks, unsure if she should be excited or concerned.

Beca grimaces so hard that Emily feels a sympathetic pang in her gut. “Riff-off slash rap battle.”

Oh, this is going to be the whitest thing they’ve ever done, Emily is sure of it.

***

Emily’s buzz wears off pretty quickly after that. Beca is back to her usual self too, rapidly sobering up as Fat Amy delivers her rendition of Missy Elliott’s _Work It_ , complete with a breakdance routine. They sit together on the kitchen counter in the aftermath, chatting idly and watching the semi-controlled chaos around them.

There are a few people gathered around the dining table, watching some boys play beer pong. They’re doing really badly, if Aubrey’s snarky commentary is anything to go by.

Despite doing her best to minimise their interactions, Emily notices how Aubrey has grown touchier throughout the night, and she can’t help but voice her concern to Beca.

Beca doesn’t say much, just continues to watch the game with minimal interest, but when Aubrey starts calling out the Trebles for being, well, _Trebles_ , she slips off the counter. Emily watches Beca wade through the crowd to get to Aubrey and take her by the elbow.

“Okay, fun police,” Beca says dryly, when she manages to guide a confused Aubrey towards the kitchen counter, where Emily is swinging her legs nervously. “You can drop the front. Legacy is even more intimidated by you now.”

Aubrey deflates a little, cupping her drink with both hands. Now that they’re up close, Emily notes how Aubrey’s hair is slightly mussed, how it looks like she’s run her fingers through it a few too many times and brushed out the curls that she started the night with. Emily never meant to make Aubrey feel worse, so she rushes to correct Beca.

“She’s joking. I’m totally not intimidated.”

The corners of Beca’s lips turn down. “You admitted to being intimidated by both of us. And Chloe.”

“Wait, what?” It’s _true_ , but Emily doesn’t recall ever telling anyone. Her fingers tap rhythmically on the counter where her hands are braced. “When did I say that?”

“Two drinks into aca-initiation night,” Chloe answers with a fond smile, popping up behind Beca and propping her chin on Beca’s shoulder. “You confessed without prompting.”

That certainly explains why Emily doesn’t remember; her alcohol tolerance was virtually non-existent back then.

“Oh,” she says weakly. “I probably meant it as a compliment?”

“We know,” Beca says with a teasing grin, which Chloe mirrors. With Chloe’s head still leaning on Beca’s shoulder, they look like creepy conjoined twins. “You told us that you loved us in the same sentence.”

Emily blushes fiercely. “Oh. Cool. That’s not totally mortifying. I’m just gonna go, uh, _die_ or something-”

Her embarrassed babbling is interrupted by cheering from the people nearby, but Emily still hears Aubrey muffle a laugh into her drink. She glances over to see Benji and Jesse bouncing happily around their end of the table; it looks like they’ve finally gotten a ball in.

She also notices Fat Amy trying to pass through the crowd, holding a tray of meats and cheeses that was definitely not in the fridge earlier.

In a fit of desperation, Emily calls out her name. Unsurprisingly, Fat Amy pretends not to hear, so she tries again.

“I’d love to try that drink you were talking about earlier!”

She absolutely does _not_ want to try the _Burrito Blast_ , but Fat Amy finally acknowledges her – with a predatory grin – and starts stalking towards the kitchen. Emily has to remind herself that she literally just asked for this. Beca raises an eyebrow at all the commotion.

“Just one, I promise,” Emily tells Beca, who acquiesces, but reminds her that they’re flying to Copenhagen in the morning and she’ll have to climb over Jessica and Ashley every time she needs to go to the toilet. “I understand,” she says solemnly.

“And _I_ promise that you will not regret your decision,” Fat Amy declares as she rounds the kitchen counter. Her tray of food is carefully put aside, and she starts pulling bottles of alcohol closer. Emily watches it all happen in a daze – gin, vodka, tequila, rum, oh God – and she wonders if she’s made a mistake.

***

Emily has probably made a mistake. Probably definitely.

Nothing happens right away, which is good. There’s a few minutes of normalcy, just the burn of the drink at the back of her throat and the warmth as it settles in her stomach.

No, everything happens the second she slides off the kitchen counter. She should have known better, honestly. Her dumb freshman ass should have just stayed seated, especially after accepting a drink from _Fat Amy_.

Instead, she tries to stand on shaky knees and feels time slowing down, taking the clamour and the muggy air and the smell of stale beer with it. Her skin prickles and she’s aware that Beca and Chloe and Aubrey and Amy are watching her, so she tries to say that she’ll be fine, but her brain is full of white noise and her chin drops to her chest because of how _heavy_ her head is. Her eyelids flutter closed and her body sags in tandem with a long exhale, like her insides are falling toward her feet.

For a moment, she stops feeling anything at all.

Then the rollercoaster drops, and everything comes back in a rush, hitting her like a burrito to the chest – just like Fat Amy said the _Burrito Blast_ would. Emily hasn’t experienced that phenomenon first-hand, but she imagines she’s not too far off base.

Heat radiates through her bones, pulsing in time with the music, and the world becomes fuzzy around the edges. Time passes indiscriminately. Everything bleeds into one another like watercolour paint, and Emily can’t help chasing after yellow and blue whenever she sees them because she thinks they’re _so_ pretty.

She gets close – the colours are _right_ there, almost within reach – but then they insist that she dance, and so she does. She faintly recognises Stacie’s perfume and allows warm hands to drag her into the fray. Stacie twirls Emily around and she laughs and flows with her movements, letting the bass rumble deep in her chest.

She dances until the heady feeling fades – whether that takes minutes or hours, she doesn't know – and then one by one, she becomes acutely aware of her aching heels, the dryness in her throat, how thick the air is in here. She looks around to see where all the Bellas are at, catalogues the ones dancing with her in the living room, the ones playing flip cup against some Trebles in the kitchen, the ones barely visible in the moonlit backyard. They’re all so happy – Beca is smiling with _teeth_ even after Chloe tries and fails three times to flip her cup – and it hits Emily that they’re finally free.

The Bellas still have one last competition together, but after that? Emily won’t be coming _home_ from Worlds; she’ll just be coming back to the empty Bella _house_ , where none of their family will be anymore.

All Emily had to do was show up on their doorstep, and the girls pretty much welcomed her with open arms. She hasn’t doubted her place in the Bellas since her conversation with Aubrey at the Lodge, but now all her friends are leaving for bigger and better things, and Emily is saddled with another legacy that she didn’t ask for.

College was supposed to be a breeze. She just wanted to write her songs and join an acapella group, get decent grades and make some new friends.

But Emily is the only Bella left, so when all is said and done with the World Championship, it will be _her_ responsibility to carry the Barden Bellas forward.

The longer she stays, the more stifling the heat becomes, and she eventually has to excuse herself from the tangle of dancing bodies. She needs fresh air, and maybe a ten-hour nap.

People are scattered from the living room to the kitchen and into the backyard, so Emily determines that the front stoop will afford the most privacy. She goes to leave, but someone circles their fingers around her wrist and pulls her to a stop before she can get too far.

“Em, babe, you’re crying,” Stacie says, her brows drawn together in concern. “Here, let me-”

Stacie brings her hand up as if to wipe away Emily’s tears, but Emily turns her face away abashedly; she didn’t even realise she was crying. They get jostled by a dancing Treblemaker and Emily uses the distraction to hurriedly swipe at her wet cheeks. Stacie takes one long look at her and then laces their fingers together.

“I need a breather,” she says assertively, but Emily thinks that she’s lying, because Stacie never gets tired of dancing. “Come with me?”

Emily doesn’t really know what to say, but Stacie isn’t deterred by her silence. She scans the room calculatingly and probably comes to the same conclusion that Emily did earlier, because she starts dragging Emily towards the front door. She pulls it open and nudges Emily through the entryway.

Only, Aubrey is unexpectedly standing on the stoop, so Emily almost knocks her down the stairs.

Aubrey looks as startled as Emily feels, but she shakes it off quickly and acknowledges them with a small smile. Emily is already overcome with emotion, but the sight of Aubrey smiling sends a cold wave of guilt down her spine.

_God_ , why couldn’t Emily just be her usual peppy self, tonight of all nights?

She feels her bottom lip begin to tremble. Aubrey’s smile fades. Stacie says something to Aubrey, which Aubrey nods at, but Emily is still caught up in her head and doesn’t really register any of the words. Stacie gives Emily’s shoulder a comforting squeeze and then disappears back into the house. The front door closes and takes much of the party noise with it.

Emily realises that her hands are clenched into the skirt of her dress. They tingle faintly as she relaxes them and the blood flow returns to her fingers.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Aubrey doesn’t look directly at her when she asks, which Emily is grateful for, but she’s also weirdly angry that Aubrey _isn’t_ angry. How _dare_ she be nice after Emily ignored her all night!

_Maybe Aubrey didn’t even notice that I was ignoring her. Or did she notice and not_ care _?_

Emily frowns and shakes her head to clear her thoughts. When Aubrey says okay, Emily remembers that she actually asked a question.

Aubrey considers her for a moment. Then she purses her lips and moves to sit on the steps, folding her dress primly beneath her. Emily follows suit without a second thought.

“Okay, so… I’ve been having a lot of feelings,” Emily admits eventually, picking at a loose thread on her hemline. There’s no point denying it; she’s extremely bad at keeping her emotions to herself, and tonight is no exception. “I thought I only had _one_ thing to worry about, but it turns out that there’s at least _two_ things to worry about, and I am _not_ ready to face either of them right now. Maybe ever.”

Is there a statute of limitations on feelings? If she waits them out, will they just simmer down and fade into nothing? She _really_ hopes so.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Aubrey tells her gently. She puts a hand over Emily’s restless fingers, probably to stop her from trying to unravel her dress, and Emily’s entire body stills. “We can just sit out here until you feel like going back to the party.”

Aubrey withdraws her hand, and Emily feels like she can breathe again.

They sit in silence for about five seconds before words start spilling out of Emily like verbal diarrhoea.

“The girls are gonna move on, and I’ll have to start all over with a whole new group of Bellas. What if I can’t find enough people to join? What if I can’t lead them like Beca and Chloe can? It’s not like I have any experience!” Emily frets. She looks to Aubrey pointedly, “Chloe had _you_ to lean on, Beca had _Chloe_ to lean on… What do I have?”

Emily gives a dry huff of laughter and shrugs helplessly. “I have my mom’s stupid legacy.”

Aubrey doesn’t say anything immediately, and Emily’s already worked herself up, so she just barrels on.

“What if we don’t win the World Championship and the Bellas aren’t even reinstated? Am I supposed to pretend that I didn’t choose Barden just so I could be a Bella? I can’t live a lie for the next three years, Aubrey! I can’t even pretend to like _boba_ ,” Emily releases a long, drawn-out groan. “I mean, the tapioca pearls are okay, but milk tea tastes like leftover cereal milk. Cereal milk! And not even from good cereal – the healthy-wholegrain-no-sugar stuff that tastes like friggin’ cardboard.”

Emily releases a shuddery exhale. She doesn’t look at Aubrey, doesn’t want to know how badly she’s overreacting right now.

“God knows Chloe couldn’t afford to fail another year, and I _never_ would have asked her to, but she…” Emily twists her lips, nauseated by how bitter she actually feels. “She stayed behind for these girls. I have no one left to stay for me. And honestly?” she chances a glance at Aubrey, but Aubrey is only regarding her patiently. “I can’t change the timeline or whatever and be older, but I’m upset that I didn’t get as much time with them as they did with each other.”

She catches Aubrey’s little intake of breath and closes her eyes when she realises. _Shit_.

Aubrey is literally the only other person who could possibly feel the same way about the Bellas. Just like Emily, Aubrey only had one year with these girls. And based on her reaction, Emily thinks that maybe Aubrey _does_ feel the same way about them.

“I’m sorry,” Emily says quietly, instinctively reaching out to comfort Aubrey. Her fingers hover shy of Aubrey’s forearm for a second before making contact. She hopes that her hard swallow isn’t audible. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“No, you weren’t,” Aubrey agrees, but she doesn’t sound irritated like Emily expected. In fact, she sounds… sympathetic? Emily pulls her hand back, confused. Aubrey continues with a small smile, “But I forgive you.”

She turns her gaze towards the lake opposite the Bella house, its surface glimmering black in the moonlight. Emily watches Aubrey watching the water and doesn’t know whether to speak, worried that she’ll say something stupid again.

With all the time she spends deliberating, Aubrey beats her to the punch.

“Sometimes I feel like that around them too.” Aubrey begins slowly, like she’s testing the words. The way she speaks makes Emily wonder if she’s ever told anyone. “They never deliberately exclude me when we catch up, but they have _years_ of memories together that I don’t have.” Her lips press together thinly. It’s a sad, acquiescent smile, and Emily wants so badly for Aubrey’s happy smile to return. “You know that they love you and you _are_ a part of the group… but you’re also _apart_ from it, in a way. And you can’t even blame them for it.”

Emily doesn’t hesitate this time. She reaches over and covers Aubrey’s hand with her own.

“It sucks balls,” she concludes, her fingers giving Aubrey’s a comforting squeeze.

Aubrey laughs. Emily is so pleased by the sound that she almost forgets to let go of her hand. They lapse into a comfortable silence and go back to watching the lake, but Emily can’t help how her thoughts keep circling back.

She hates that they can make her feel so small.

“I’m scared,” Emily says, so quietly that it’s almost a whisper. “About the future of the Bellas being in my hands. I don’t have a plan B if I screw things up. I don’t even have a plan _A_ yet. And they-” she points a thumb back at the house. “-they all had each other. I just have… me.”

Aubrey hums thoughtfully. “That sounds like a valid fear. I actually… can I share something with you?” she asks uncertainly, and Emily nods curiously.

“I had a six-inch binder detailing every step of my plan to win the ICCAs,” Aubrey confesses. “There were sections for every week of the year,” the _full_ year, she stresses, not just the academic year, because acapella practice was mandatory over breaks. “There were sub-sections for each vocal part, with enough room for extensive notes after each rehearsal. Every step had a backup plan, and I was so prepared that my backup plans had backup plans.”

“But?” Emily prompts.

“I didn’t make it past section one of the original plan, and none of my backup plans worked. I still don’t understand why; I followed my dad’s best advice. _If they don’t crack under pressure, then you’re not yelling loud enough_ ,” Aubrey looks genuinely confused as to why that instruction failed, and Emily literally bites her tongue to keep from laughing.

“Well…” Aubrey muses. “With Beca in the group, I probably should have anticipated that. But you know what happened, even after all my plans failed?”

Emily tilts her head questioningly.

“We won the ICCAs,” Aubrey says with a proud smile, but it dims a little as she continues. “I spent a lot of time being angry with these girls because they weren’t the Bellas that I envisioned, and I’d spent so long strategising about how to win. It took a while to realise that I had to learn to work _with_ them, to play to their strengths instead of trying to fit them into the designated boxes of my master plan.”

“My advice to you?” Aubrey says with a pointed expression. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Come up with a plan when you know what you’re working with. It’s more time efficient.”

Emily nods appreciatively. But she can’t help asking, “You’re talking about Beca, right?”

Aubrey smiles wryly, which Emily takes as confirmation. “All of them, actually. But yes, mostly Beca.” Her expression morphs into something more meaningful, and she adds, “We won’t be out of touch. If you need us, we’ll be there for you.”

Emily is wading deeper into uncharted territory with all these new feelings of uncertainty. She’s terrified of drowning, but the weight of Aubrey’s gaze makes her feel like she’s still tethered to solid land, and she sends her a grateful smile.

Aubrey smiles back, and Emily remembers why she’s been trying to ignore her all night.

“I honestly don’t know if I can do this,” Emily admits, but she’s not sure she’s talking about the Bellas anymore.

Aubrey doesn’t suspect anything, thankfully, and Emily sighs in relief. She gets to keep her other secret – the flutter of something, the hint of _maybe_ – to herself for another day.

“Leading the Bellas is going to be a challenge, but I believe in you. And so do all the other girls. You wrote the original song that’s going to win us Worlds, and I am _confident_ that you’re going to become a legacy in your own right, not just because of your mom,” Aubrey says earnestly. “Everyone that matters will be there if you need help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Emily feels her lower lip drawing into a pout and she knows she’s about to start crying because of how overwhelming tonight has been, so she buries her head in her hands. Aubrey’s hand settles warmly on her back, but she doesn’t urge her to sit up again, just offers a comforting touch.

“Ugh,” Emily groans wetly into her palms, embarrassed about everything that’s gone down. “This is their party and I’m ruining it with my own feelings.”

“Feelings are… not ideal,” Aubrey agrees, but the formality and her tentative phrasing almost makes Emily laugh.

She sneaks a peek at Aubrey from between her fingers, watching her profile as she looks out over the empty lake. When Aubrey turns and catches her in the act, Emily wrinkles her nose sheepishly and straightens up, reluctantly letting Aubrey’s hand fall away.

“Can we just… stay out here for a little while longer?”

When Aubrey picks her phone up from her lap and starts typing away, Emily thinks she might have overstepped with her request, until Aubrey shoots her a sidelong smile.

“I texted Stacie to bring us more drinks. You look like you could use another.”

***

It’s pretty hard to outdo the shame spiral that comes with confronting your deepest fears and having a mental breakdown in front of an audience, so Emily thinks the rest of the night goes relatively well.

Most of the girls end up going to bed early, citing their flight to Copenhagen in the morning, and the Trebles move the party back to their place. The Bella captains (both current and former) are the only ones that remain downstairs, taking their leadership responsibilities seriously and starting the post-party clean-up.

Emily joins them. She figures this will be her job soon enough, and besides, she can’t turn down a chance to hang out with three of her favourite people.

Even though she’s emotionally exhausted and possibility a little drunk.

(She probably shouldn’t have had that last drink, but _someone_ had to finish off the rest of the vodka.)

“Shh, don’t tell the rest of the Bellas, but you guys are my favourite aca-sisters,” Emily drawls to one of Beca’s three heads. “Beca and Chloe, you’re the best captains ever. Aubrey… you were never my captain? But I think you’d be the best too, because y’got a nice face and I like it a lot.”

Emily can’t tell if Aubrey is grimacing or smiling, but someone is laughing and laughter means happiness, so she pats herself on the back.

Well. She _tries_ to pat herself on the back. She’s kind of plastered though, so she only gets as far as her collarbone.

Between her wobbly knees and the way her head is spinning, Emily doesn’t know if she ends up getting much cleaning done. She’s still pleasantly buzzed by the time Beca announces that they’re basically done and clomps tiredly up the stairs.

“Hey Em?” Chloe questions as she ties a knot into a garbage bag. Emily blinks up at her from the kitchen counter, where she’s taking a break with her head pillowed on her arms. “I don’t think you should go back to your dorm tonight, and Aubrey already has dibs on the couch, so do you mind crashing with me?”

Emily hums her assent. She _is_ pretty sleepy, and her dorm is so far away.

“Go on,” Chloe says, shooing her off kindly. “I just have to get these bags out for the garbage truck in the morning, and then I’ll meet you up there.”

Emily tries, she really does, but Chloe’s bedroom is on the second floor and her jelly legs have declared stairs as Public Enemy Number One. She’s already committed to sleeping slumped on the steps when a pair of hands manoeuvres her into standing again. Aubrey smiles at her and starts guiding her into the living room.

Emily doesn’t know why they’re shuffling this way, because Chloe’s room is in the opposite direction, but she leans into Aubrey’s supportive hold and doesn’t question anything until she’s being gently pushed down onto the couch.

She flails in protest, because this is supposed to be _Aubrey’s_ bed tonight. She tries to explain, but the cushions are nice and soft against her face and trying to keep her eyes open is almost painful.

“Airport’n morning. You… couch sleep,” Emily manages, throwing an arm over her face to cover her yawn.

Aubrey laughs and Emily frowns blindly, because that wasn’t supposed to be funny.

“I’ll be fine; Chloe and I have shared a bed before,” Aubrey assures her.

Emily’s frown deepens. She hears the rustling of fabric and then a sheet is being draped over her. It’s hard to maintain her resolve when she’s so warm and comfortable.

“No floor?” Emily asks, just to be sure.

“I won’t be sleeping on the floor,” Aubrey confirms.

Satisfied that Aubrey will be okay for tonight, Emily finally allows herself to relax.

***

Emily wakes up groggy and _hot_. She kicks until the sheets are a tangled mess at her feet, and then grunts at the sunlight glaring through the living room window. She yanks at one of the cushions under her head and pulls it over her face.

She tries to go back to sleep, but she’s been conscious for too long and now her brain is as awake as her body. Once she becomes aware of her throbbing temples and the dryness in her mouth, she reluctantly accepts that there’s no going back.

She closes her eyes anyway, because she has nowhere else to be, and it sounds like none of the Bellas are even up yet.

At least that’s what she thinks, until she hears the whir of the coffeemaker and the back door closing with a gentle snick.

Hushed voices start emanating from the kitchen, and Emily doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she’s not really in a state to engage in higher-order thinking.

She recognises Chloe’s voice first.

“Who was it?” Chloe asks, over what Emily assumes is the clinking of her pulling mugs from the cupboard.

“One of my employees at the Lodge.”

That can only be Aubrey, who sounds like she’s talking through gritted teeth. Chloe follows Emily’s next line of thought.

“Why do you sound like you’re about to fire them?”

“I’m not,” Aubrey says lightly. “I’m going to sue him for sexual harassment.”

There’s a really lengthy pause, and Emily can only imagine that Chloe is doing that thing where she wordlessly pressures people into talking by turning her baby blue eyes on them and just _staring_ until they break.

Emily has been a victim several times over, but she’s never lasted this long. She figures that’s a testament to Aubrey’s willpower.

She hears Aubrey sigh heavily. “He asked me on a date.”

Chloe laughs. “Oh, Aubs. Asking you on a date isn’t a criminal offence. I would totes date you if you didn’t have that massive toner for-”

“Chloe!” Aubrey exclaims with an uncharacteristic squeak. “The walls have ears!”

“Oops, sorry babe,” Chloe says airily, and Emily thinks she couldn’t sound less apologetic if she tried. “I’m just saying though. You gotta sack up or you’re gonna miss your opportunity with-” she stops abruptly, and Emily suspects that Aubrey has glared her into silence. “- _them_. And believe me, they have some pretty cute _opportunities_ for themselves.”

“Chloe, I swear…” Aubrey says with a groan. “One day I’m going to shove a pitch pipe so far down your throat, you’ll be breathing in chromatic scale. Can we _please_ drop this?”

They start discussing the plan to get the Bellas to the airport on time and where to stop for breakfast, and Emily eventually tunes them out.

The knowledge that Aubrey likes someone makes her feel itchy inside, like she’s been lied to, but she dismisses the reaction as irrational and grossly possessive. Aubrey doesn’t owe her anything – they may be friends now, but even best friends aren’t entitled to one another’s thoughts.

Emily thinks that she finally understands the pitfalls of being recklessly open-hearted. She takes her secret, pulls it close, and crushes it to dust against her chest.

***

Copenhagen is _amazing_. It’s raining and not a single stranger smiles back at her as they walk through Nyhavn, but the colours are so vibrant and the girls are so high-spirited, Emily can’t help but see the beauty in everything.

Even the incessant ringing of bicycle bells and the way everything smells vaguely like fish.

They’ve arrived a day before the competition, so they do some typical touristy things to pass the time. Being who they are, they can’t go anywhere without something going wrong – the tamest incident is almost losing Fat Amy halfway up the never-ending spiral ramp of the Rundetaarn (she complains bitterly about the extra cardio when they finally reach the observation deck), and the worst is probably when an excited Flo does a standing backflip while they’re wandering through Strøget and accidentally gets adopted by a travelling acrobat family.

(An argument via Google translate doesn’t persuade Flo’s new parents to return her, but they manage to buy her back for 500 kroner.)

By the time they get to the venue the following afternoon, Emily is panicky as all get-out. The stage is freakin’ huge and the fact that they’re singing in the _World Acapella Championship_ is only just sinking in.

She’s backstage, fishing her Bellas scarf from her bag for their full-costume final run-through, when she feels a gentle tap on her shoulder. She spins and comes face to face with Benji.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, taken aback. She looks around, half-expecting to see the other Treblemakers – maybe they came to Copenhagen as an act of patriotic aca-solidarity – but it’s just him, alone amongst the international acapella teams.

“Oh, you- you know, anything to support the Bellas,” Benji says warmly, but the way he’s looking at her makes her think he’s not doing this for the Bellas, not really.

Emily stutters and wrings her scarf between her hands, and she can’t help confessing her overwhelming nervousness about the competition. Benji is quick to assure her that they’ll be great. He says it so wholeheartedly that Emily wants to believe it too.

Then he demurs with a small laugh. “I should probably go find my seat.”

Emily nods reluctantly. Every second with him is a second spent _not_ thinking about the swirling swarm of antagonised wasps in her stomach, so she doesn’t really want him to leave yet.

He hesitates, to her relief. But there’s something in the way he steps away and then purposefully back towards her that makes Emily feel like this is a Very Important Moment.

“Before I go,” Benji starts, stumbling over his words a little when they lock eyes. Emily admits that it’s kinda flattering how he’s flustered by her presence. She doesn’t think she’s ever had that effect on anyone before. “I have something for you.”

He’s looking at her adoringly and Emily doesn’t even think. She just reaches forward and cradles his face in her hands, kissing him sweetly.

Except he doesn’t respond at all and starts pulling away.

Emily thinks maybe she’s misread him – flying all the way to Denmark sure _sounded_ like a romantic gesture – but then he’s tugging a chain of colourful streamers out of his mouth and chuckling awkwardly.

“I’m so sorry, I thought that that was going in a different direction,” he apologises, bunching the material up in his hands and not quite making eye contact. “That’s my bad.”

And just like that, she feels the angry swarm finally abate, dulling down to a flutter of butterflies beating their wings madly.

Still kinda weird, but no longer painful.

Emily saves him from apologising and tells him that she liked it, but before she can gather the courage to kiss him again – properly this time – someone interrupts.

“Em, you ready?”

Beca looks like she’s repressing a grin, and Emily has no doubt that she watched the whole thing.

“Uh, yeah,” Emily manages. She toys with her scarf, not knowing whether to look at Benji or Beca. “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

She catches the knowing smile that Beca sends Benji before she starts walking away. She turns a blind eye to the way it feels like her mom just caught her making out with a boy.

“Okay, well… break a leg,” Benji says kindly, and Emily hopes that he doesn’t have room in his mouth for a second set of streamers, because she’s reaching for his face again.

She refuses to spare him another glance when she eventually pulls away; she felt his smiling cheeks beneath her fingers as their lips met and she knows she can’t afford to stand here kissing it away, because the Bellas have a competition to win. She runs to catch up with Beca, who is still lingering conspicuously close by.

Beca doesn’t say anything, just looks at her slyly. Emily flushes hotly.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Beca singsongs teasingly as they head back towards the Bellas. “But if I did, I’d tell you that Benji is one of the best people I know, and that I’m happy for you.”

Emily scrunches her nose – not at the sentiment, but because it sounds _weird_ coming from Beca. To her credit, Beca seems to realise this too.

“Yeah, feelings are gross. That’s why I _didn’t_ say what you think I said. And I’ll aca-destroy you if you ever insinuate that I did,” Beca scowls at her own threat. “Aca-destroy? Ugh, being in this philharmonic of freaks for so long has made me lose my edge.”

She gripes a little more, but even Emily can tell that it’s all for show. They approach the Bellas and Emily slows when she catches a glimpse of blonde hair.

She has no reason to feel guilty. She and Aubrey are just _friends_.

So why does she suddenly feel like she’s in the wrong?

Beca must sense Emily’s trepidation. “I won’t tell her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Emily turns wide eyes on her captain. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Your mom,” Beca says confusedly. She gestures to Emily’s mom, who is standing near the blonde – and who Emily can now see is Jessica. “I won’t tell her about Benji.”

Emily nods emphatically, rolling with Beca’s assumption. “Right. I- uh, thanks.”

She then beelines straight for the reassuring comfort of her mom’s arms, accidentally spurring a group hug, and falls headfirst into the perfectly-timed distraction.

***

When they win, Emily takes advantage and hugs an adrenaline-fueled Beca on stage. She looks at the stage-right wing over the top of Beca’s head, at the happy faces of the former Bellas, but one person is notably absent.

She feels Chloe’s hand sneaking up her back from her other side, so she turns away from Beca slightly and draws her other captain into a one-armed hug. She glances towards the left wing and finds exactly who she’s looking for.

Emily mirrors the blissful smile that Aubrey sends her and decides that that has to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl i think benji and emily are sweet but dw, the fic tags are the endgame here. come say hi on tumblr @alyciaclebnam - i'm happy to take prompts (for junksen or any other pp ship)


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